Humanity
by The Flame and Hawk's Eye
Summary: After a horrific incident, Edward and Roy race against the clock to try and make things right, while Riza struggles with the notion of what it truly means to be human. Royai, Parental!RoyEd, EdWin, some AlMei. Rated for violence, language, and graphic scenes. Note: Chimera! Fic.
1. Untraceable

**A/N: **_Detailed A/N at the bottom._

_Enjoy the first chapter of my second multi-chapter FMA:B fanfic._

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><p>"Oh, Elizabeth! It's been too long," Roy Mustang remarked playfully into the phone's voice-piece as he leaned back in his office chair, twirling the phone cord around his finger. "How have you been?"<p>

"Me? Why, I've been fine, Roy," the woman on the other end of the line answered cheerfully. "The shop has been awfully busy as of late, so just playing catch up. We have a big event coming up in a couple of months."

Roy couldn't help but smile to himself. That "big event" was his inauguration ceremony. In just a few, short months, Fuhrer Grumman would hand over the reins and _he_ will be the Fuhrer of Amestris. Sometimes he had to pinch himself to remind him that this was really happening. He had finally accomplished his dream. And he certainly couldn't have done it without her.

"Speaking of big events," he replied coolly as he ran the fingers of his free hand through his raven-black hair, "How about I take you out to dinner tonight? My treat, of course." Upon popping the question, Roy's stomach did a slight somersault and his heart fluttered. He couldn't help it. Things were finally coming together and he felt invincible. Invincible enough, even, to ask his Captain out to dinner.

There was a pause at the end of the line, followed by a regretful, "I'm sorry Roy, but I've got an appointment with my supplier tonight. Perhaps some other time?"

The corners of his lips turned downward in a slight frown as his high dissipated and his bulletproof notion shattered. "Supplier" was the code word for the gun range. She was going _again_?

Roy was grateful that Riza was taking her job as head of security seriously, but sometimes he thought that she was going a little overboard. Ever since he appointed her the position for the inauguration, she has done nothing but paperwork and training, from morning well into the latest hours of the night. And despite her protests when she'd claim to be fine, Roy could tell that the constant pressure she was putting on herself was taking its toll. The dark circles under her eyes and her slightly loose-fitting uniform were dead giveaways. She was overworking herself.

Tonight he would not give her the option of working. However, as he opened his mouth to respond, he was cut off by a deep cackle on the other end of the line.

"Bahahaha! Shot down," the newcomer exclaimed.

"Havoc," Roy leaned forward in his seat and covered his mouth and the phone receiver with his hand, "What the hell do you think you're doing," he hissed into the mouth piece. Was he _trying _to blow their cover?

It took Havoc a few moments to allow his laughter to die down and compose himself. Once he had, he cockily replied, "My line just opened up, sir. Had to let my presence be known somehow."

As Roy began to protest, the phone was snatched from his grip. Lieutenant Breda leaned against the General's desk and pressed the receiver to his ear. "Causing trouble again, Havoc," the Lieutenant smirked devilishly into the phone. "Well, you heard the man. You owe me 1000 cenz."

Roy jerked the phone out of the Lieutenant's grasp. "Sit down, Lieutenant Breda," he ordered as he covered the receiver piece with his hand.

The Lieutenant slowly lowered himself back into his seat next to the General and sighed gloomily, subconsciously forcing the General's feelings of annoyance to lighten. The General knew that not being out in the field was making Breda antsy. But after the Lieutenant had sprained his right ankle while out in the field just a few weeks prior, Roy was not comfortable sending the man back out until they had Dr. Knox's approval. "Yes, sir," the heavy-set man muttered as he elevated his leg and rested it on the stack of books piled in front of him. "Just remind Havoc again that he owes me money."

Roy scoffed and rolled his eyes as he pressed the phone against his ear. "Fuery," he demanded, "Are we really secured?"

"Yes, sir," a fourth voice responded chastely. "The line just went active a couple of seconds ago. Your line is officially disconnected from Central HQ and is directly connected to ours, so you can drop the act, sir."

Damn. So it was true. He'd have to finish his conversation with her once they got back. This time, however, he'd be more persuasive. This time, he'd-

"Don't forget to remind him," Breda whispered as he leaned in toward Roy.

"What is this even about," Roy growled as he glared at the man seated next to him.

The Lieutenant shrugged innocently. "Just a wager. I just don't want him to forget-"

"Fine," Roy briskly cut the other man off. "Havoc," he snapped into the phone.

"Yes, sir," the blond man answered over the line.

"Pay Lieutenant Breda when you see him next."

"But wait! Tell him that wasn't-"

"No," the General replied bluntly, letting his growing irritation become known. They needed to get back to the task at hand. The men were treating these last few missions with too much ease. He didn't want to have to remind them _again_ about the importance of this mission. They should know better by now.

Playtime was over.

"Alright," he continued authoritatively, slipping back into the role as the commander of the operation. "Keep the line up and running, Sergeant. And Captain, Lieutenant?"

"Yes, sir," Hawkeye and Havoc replied simultaneously.

"Any movement?"

"No, sir," Hawkeye replied, her playful "Elizabeth" tone completely gone, instead replaced with her usual monotonous diction. "At least from my end, I have seen no signs of activity."

Roy's frown grew. No, this had to be right. They had worked so meticulously, so diligently to track these men down. It had taken them months, but they were finally able to pinpoint the location of the arms dealers that had been selling weapons illegally to Aerugo. All of their leads had led them there and only there; to that small, unassuming warehouse on the outskirts of southeastern Central. "Havoc? Fuery? Anything from your positions?"

"No, sir," the two replied in unison.

The Flame Alchemist sighed heavily and rubbed the bridge of his nose agitatedly. This was not how he was expecting his team's last mission to go. It should have been an easy stake-out operation. Just go in. Secure the suspects. Secure the weapons, and then report back.

Instead, a sweep of the building and its perimeter had proved fruitless.

They didn't have time to start back at square one. He should have "reassigned" them to his new staff weeks ago, but he had wanted to try and get one last mission in, for old time's sake. However, this was beginning to look like another dead end…

"So… we good to go," Havoc loudly asked over the connection's static. "'Cause I've got a date tonight with Rebecca..."

"And I'm supposed to meet Sheska in an hour," Fuery added timidly. "We're looking over the radio devices at HQ."

Even Fuery had a date tonight? "Fine," Roy growled into the phone as he rubbed his temple, trying to massage away the stress and defeat. "Grab the others and-"

The sound of gunfire cut him off, thundering through the phone's earpiece. Roy jumped up from his desk, nearly dropping the phone's earpiece in surprise. "What's going on?!" he cried into the mouthpiece. When there was no reply, he yelled it again, his pulse rising exponentially with every passing second. He strained to listen, trying to hear if the gunfire was being returned from his men. However, the task proved to be a difficult.

After what seemed like an eternity, he finally heard the muffled noises that accompany the picking up a dropped receiver. Roy held his breath as Kain Fuery spoke, his voice barely discernible above the sound of the continual gunfire. "S-sir…"

"Fuery! What is your status?" Roy felt the desperation swelling inside him.

"It's… it's an ambush, sir. They knew…" Fuery responded, his voice sounding disconnected from the situation entirely. "I-I…" The Sergeant's voice ended abruptly, along with the gunfire.

"Kain!" Roy was screaming into the mouthpiece now. Any composure he had had slipped away. "KAIN!" Only the connection's static greeted him.

"Jean?" Nothing.

No… This wasn't happening. This _can't_ be happening.

"Riza...?" Nothing.

"Riza, please…. Please answer," he begged softly.

Please… he just needed something, _anything_, to let him know she was okay.

After a few moments of silence, he heard a series of rhythmic, deep breaths on the other end of the line. He froze, his heart pounding in his chest. "Riza…?"

The breathing ceased. Roy could hear the receiver being picked up. His blood ran cold when he heard a _snap,_ followed by the loud drone of a lost connection. The line was gone.

The phone receiver slipped from Roy's grasp and clattered onto his desk below.

"Chief," Breda stared up at the Flame Alchemist, his eyes widened with alarm. "What's going-?"

"We have to go," Roy responded with urgency as he stumbled around the desk and toward the door.

Breda leapt up from his chair and limped after the General. "Sir," the man desperately pleaded, "What's going on?"

Roy didn't respond. He didn't know how _to _respond.

All he knew was that his team needed him.

And nothing would stop him from getting to them.

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><p>Roy swayed absently as he tried to process everything they had discovered.<p>

Eleven.

Eleven men were dead, their bodies sprinkled around the warehouse like leaves. Some of them were riddled with bullets, while others were torn to shreds, their mangled bodies barely recognizable.

Much to Roy's deep-seated, albeit selfish relief, Fuery, Havoc, and Hawkeye remained unaccounted for, along with a few other men. Their headsets and weapons were found scattered around the areas they had staked. But near Sergeant Fuery's radio hardware, they had made an additional discovery: a long, narrow trail of blood.

Roy tried desperately to not make any assumptions. It could be anyone's blood. It could be the assailant's… or… or…

He shoved the thoughts away when they tried to surface again. He didn't have the evidence. All he knew what that his team wasn't there amongst the massacre.

Roy passively crouched down next to one of the fallen soldiers and numbly plucked a small tuft of brown, blood-soaked hair from the man's jacket. Raising it to his face, he narrowed his eyes as he tried to make sense of it. The departed man in question was blond and, judging by his wounds; he had hardly put up a fight. Certainly not enough of one to rip out a clump of hair from his killer. So where did it come from…

He quietly slipped the evidence into a small plastic bag upon hearing the crunch of boots on gravel behind him. "Did you find anything," he asked without turning to look at the two men as they approached.

"Nothing…" Lieutenant Breda replied despondently. "Everything's gone… As if they were never here."

_Except for the carnage they left behind_, the General thought bitterly to himself as he stood. After pausing reflecting on the events for a few moments, he turned to face Breda and Armstrong. "Lieutenant Colonel," he addressed Armstrong quietly, "is there anything that you would suggest we do next?" Their other leads were all dead ends. He needed a fresh mind to muddle through the data, someone else to redirect him. Because honestly, he didn't know what to do…

The Lieutenant Colonel's moustache bristled slightly as he pursed his lips together in deep concentration. After collecting his thoughts, the Strongarm Alchemist shook his head slightly, his eyes softening. "I'm at a loss, General. I'm not quite sure-"

"What do you mean," Roy snapped, his onyx glare zeroed in on the Lieutenant Colonel. "You are the head of Investigations now. Do you mean to tell me that you don't know where to go from here?" His composure was slipping away. Time was precious; this was not the time to be sitting idly while half of his team was missing. They needed to act _now_.

"Please, General," the muscled-man raised his hands defensively; "We cannot become divided on this. I need for you to tell me what else you know."

"And what do you mean by that," the General snarled defensively.

"General, was there any indication they knew that you and your team were tracking them?"

Roy gaped at the other alchemist in disbelief. Armstrong knew his team and their strengths. He knew how precise and tactical his team was. There was no way they could make a mistake so large… especially this late in their careers. His accusatory question was absurd and outlandish.

No. There were no mistakes. There couldn't have been… right?

Feeling a heavy weight on his shoulder, Roy was pulled from his thoughts, noticing that the Lieutenant Colonel had placed his massive hand on it as a sign of comfort. Roy refused to raise his head to look at the massive man; he was too busy going over his _own_ mistakes.

He shouldn't have let them talk him out of going. They were concerned for his safety, being so close to his inauguration, when in reality; _he _should have been the one looking out for them.

And now they were gone.

Lost.

Untraceable.

* * *

><p>"Kain, you need to look at me. Focus," Hawkeye quietly commanded as she continued to apply pressure to his wound, attempting to stanch the constant flow of blood that poured from it. The young man had stopped responding to the title "Sergeant" just a few minutes prior. Hawkeye quickly switched tactics and began calling him by his first name, hoping to keep him with her. Now she had to pry in order to get him to even acknowledge her, whether it was with a flutter of his eyelids or a small nod. But his responses were becoming less frequent as he faded in and out of consciousness.<p>

The fact that the bullet had failed to exit his body worried her deeply. With the jostling they had to endure, she feared that it may have migrated to a more critical part of his body.

Being tossed into a dark, musty cell certainly hadn't helped either. The air reeked with the scent of mold and filth and something else that was familiar, but yet she couldn't quite seem to place it. With only the light of a few torches, she had managed to crawl over to Fuery and find his wound, pressing on it firmly with her coat sleeves.

She and Havoc had been lucky. They had come out of the firefight with only a few surface wounds, where bullets had simply grazed them. But some of the others she could not account for. They had been separated from them, taken to some unknown location in this extensive maze of corridors and cement.

And then there were the ones that were left behind…

She knew they were dead. Before they had been blindfolded and taken, she saw their mutilated remains. Some of them twisted and disfigured to the point of unrecognition. They had been marred and mangled by what she could only describe as beasts.

Beasts that had evaded her detection and ambushed them. Beasts that had ripped good men apart without a second thought.

And now here they were, in their lair.

Hawkeye was quickly jolted from her thoughts when Fuery moaned in pain. She looked down at him, realizing that his jacket and her hands were completely stained a deep red.

So much blood… There was so much blood.

She tensed when, out of the corner of her eye, she saw Havoc slowly stand and shuffle over toward them. Without lifting her gaze from Fuery, she softly scolded the other blond. "Lieutenant Havoc, please go and continue tending to Officer Henderson."

Havoc disobeyed and instead sank to his knees next to her. He pulled off his jacket and began compressing it into a ball, ignoring the glare of the Hawk's Eye. Without saying a word, he gently pushed her hands away from Fuery and began pressing the balled up jacket against the wound, soaking up the blood like a sponge.

"Lieutenant Havoc-"

"I can't," the First Lieutenant murmured distantly. "He's dead."

Hawkeye froze, stunned at the news. She had heard them talking just minutes ago. What happened? What changed?

"He," Havoc began again, desperately trying to keep his emotions in check, "He asked me to tell his wife he loved her…" He went to speak again, but stopped when Fuery groaned in pain. Looking down at the Sergeant, Havoc plastered a fake smile on his face. "Hey, buddy…" He quietly began, "How are you feeling?"

Hawkeye hastily moved to over to Fuery's head, maneuvering it gently onto her lap.

The young soldier slowly opened his eyes and tried to focus on his comrades. "It hurts…" he muttered weakly.

"I know it does," Havoc responded softly. "But you have to stay with us. If you fall asleep, you might miss your date with Sheska. You don't want to keep her waiting, right?"

Fuery nodded inactively and managed to mumble an unintelligible response.

Havoc let out a small sigh before turning his eyes toward Hawkeye. His eyes screamed of despair. Taking a shaky breath, he mouthed _"What are we going to do?"_

She opened her mouth to respond, but was interrupted by the sound of metal clashing against metal. Snapping her head around, she glared at the source of the noise.

From the shadows beyond the barred door emerged a wrinkled, short-statured man donning a white lab jacket. Upon seeing the two pairs of eyes watching him intently, his lips parted, revealing a toothy, devilish grin that spread from ear to ear.

Hawkeye felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. His presence was familiar to her… too familiar for comfort….

With the grin still etched onto his face, the man looked down the bridge of his crooked nose at them. His large, crazed eyes scanned them before coming to rest on Kain Fuery. His smile faltered, mixing a slight amount of concern into his expression. "Oh…" he finally spoke. "Is that one dead?"

Remaining true to her training, Hawkeye remained silent. _Don't give them what they want. Don't speak unless crucial._

Unfortunately, Jean Havoc must have missed that day of training. The blond Lieutenant narrowed his eyes at the man and hissed, "Who the hell are you?"

"Me?" The man asked innocently. "Why, I'm the good Dr. Beller. And this," he raised his arms from his sides and gestured to the area around him, "Is my sanctuary."

Hawkeye shivered and instinctively reached up with a free hand and rubbed her neck absently, eyes widening upon realizing the man's slight semblance. His demeanor, his posture, his wicked smile…

They all brought her back to that day just over five years ago…

This man was just like the gold-toothed doctor.

This man was dangerous... and now they were at his mercy.

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><p><strong>AN: **_So, here's that new story I kind of outlined a few chapters ago in _Pressure Point _(in which Chapter 12 is about 25% done, if anyone cares XD)._

_To those that haven't read _Pressure Point, _here's my quick spiel:_

_Firstly, yes, this is a Chimera! story._

_Secondly, I admit that I do not like Chimera! stories. However, I randomly remembered this prompt from a long time ago and decided to challenge myself to write something when I'm stuck on _Pressure Point_, or when I'm procrastinating from my studies (hence, the reason this story is now posted)._

_**That being said, here is what the story will contain: **__Royai, Parental!RoyEd, EdWin, some AlMei, explanations of alchemy (or at least my understanding of), angst/romance/drama/adventure and maybe some light and dark humor occasionally. Plus, I want to explore Edward and Alphonse's thoughts of Nina at this stage of their lives. Will most likely contain graphic scenes and explicit language._

_**What this story won't contain: **__Fetish-y stuff (because that's not my style), a bunch of OCs, and non-canon pairings (since I pretty much listed a lot of the canon pairings as being part of the story anyways)._

_Finally, the story takes place about five years after the Promised Day. So, Edward and Winry are married and Roy and Riza are back from Ishval. And no, there is no connection to _Pressure Point _in this story._

_So, we'll see where the story goes._

_I definitely encourage anyone that wants to review to do so and let me know what they think as the story goes on. _


	2. Broken Soldiers

**Author's Warning: Graphic scenes and language.**

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><p>The "good doctor" cocked his head to the side and eyed the recumbent Sergeant curiously. "You know," he began inquisitively, "you never answered my question. Is that one dead?"<p>

"Fuck off," Havoc snapped.

The doctor knitted his brows together and stuck his lower lip out in a pout. "Well, that wasn't very nice," he replied, a dash of hurt in his words.

"Sorry," the blond Lieutenant replied bitterly, "But sometimes I don't play well with others."

Dr. Beller shook his head and sighed. "You military dogs and your pack mentality… It always fascinated me during my service. You never seem to grasp the concept of leaving a downed comrade behind…"

"Wait," Hawkeye interjected, narrowing her eyes at the man, "_You _are military?" The name "Beller" was not familiar. _Is he really-_

"Was," the doctor corrected, his impish smile slowly returning to his lips. "But after the Promised Day, the military no longer needed my expertise; or rather, they no longer approved of my unconventional healing methods. So," he raised his arms once more, gesturing to the area around them, "I left and decided to open my own practice!"

"What are your unconventional methods," Hawkeye asked coldly. "Please, enlighten us."

The doctor shrugged. "All I was doing was fixing broken soldiers. There are so many of them in the military. And you," he pointed at the trio, "Are all broken as well."

Out of the corner of her eye, Hawkeye saw Havoc turn toward her, a bewildered expression on his face. Ignoring the Lieutenant's look, she advanced cautiously. "Tell me, how are we broken?"

Dr. Beller threw his hands up and exclaimed, "That's your first issue. _You don't even realize you're broken!_"

Taken aback, the two soldiers watched as the relatively calm doctor's demeanor began to change to one of derangement and animosity.

"We tailed you for weeks, _weeks_, and not a _single_ indication from any of you that you even knew we were there," he spat with resentment. "We were always there. In your command center, outside your homes… Everywhere!" His visage was inches from bars now, his hands tightly gripping the metal on either side of his face. Eyes widened to the point of practically popping out of his head, he continued his tirade, spewing saliva from his lips. "Worthless, _worthless _soldiers! The whole lot of the military! That's-that's why-" He stopped, as if suddenly recognizing his own insanity. Stepping back from the bars, he clasped his hands together in front of himself and rubbed them together nervously. Taking a deep breath, he slipped back into his "good doctor" persona. "That's why I brought you here. You are all broken, so it's my duty as a military doctor to fix you."

Hawkeye realized the gravity of the situation as the man's words had slowly begun to sink in. They had been in the military command center. They'd been outside her _home_!

Her heart began to race, threatening to burst from her chest at any moment. She and the men had been watched for weeks without even realizing it. Had the General been under surveillance as well? Would they target him now that his team was out of the picture? The idea that they had been so close to him without her even realizing it was nauseating. She had failed…

Failed to protect her family. Failed to protect herself. And most importantly, failed to protect the one man that she had sworn to defend at all costs.

She was so absorbed in her thoughts that she almost didn't realize that the doctor had begun cackling madly.

"I know that look," the doctor exclaimed excitedly, clapping his hands together. "That's the face one wears when they realize their own incompetency!"

Hawkeye glared up at him, but said nothing. There was nothing to say to him. Clearly he was deranged. Everything they would say from that point on had to be crafted with the finest caution, lest they provoke his rage-filled ranting again.

When the two soldiers had apparently failed to respond the way the doctor had hoped, he shrugged his shoulders and snapped his fingers. In response, a large, black-bearded man stepped forth from the shadows, his narrow, deep hazel eyes watching them dangerously.

A shiver ran down Riza's spine. Something about him was wrong. Something about him seemed… inhuman.

He stared back at her, eyeing her down his long, curved nose. No doubt sensing her growing uneasiness, he folded his massive arms in front of himself and drew his lips back in a sneer.

"Anyways, we'll just remove _that_ for you," the doctor casually stated, nodding toward Fuery.

"Stop!" Hawkeye was on her feet now, arms extended, blocking the man's path to the Sergeant. "This man is still alive. You can't take him."

The doctor shrugged nonchalantly, the object of his fascination quickly moving from Fuery onto the blonde woman in front of him. "Well, I was going to wait until later, but I suppose we can start now."

A heartbeat later, the massive man's enormous hand was around Hawkeye's arm, dragging her towards the door.

"No!" Havoc was suddenly on his feet, gripping her other arm with this two hands.

As Hawkeye turned toward the Lieutenant in surprise, an object flashed past her, just inches from her face. The object, the massive man's free hand, was around Havoc's neck, threatening to crush his trachea.

The blond Lieutenant's eyes widened in surprise, and then fear as he began to choke and sputter, desperately trying to fill his lungs with precious air. His grip on Hawkeye's arm loosened and released as his hands went to his throat, frantically trying to pry the larger man's hand from it.

The hulking man seemed unfazed by the Lieutenant's efforts as he tightened his grip on Havoc's throat, lifting him into the air as he did so.

"Stop! Stop!" Hawkeye screamed as she looked back at the doctor. "I'll go! I'LL GO!"

She saw doubt in his eyes.

"Please! Just let him go and you can fix me!"

The doctor's wicked smile returned and he snapped his fingers again. Instantly, the monster of a man released his grip on Havoc's neck, allowing the Lieutenant to crumple in a heap at his feet. As he lumbered away from the gasping man, he pulled Hawkeye along with him.

"S-stop," Havoc wheezed his hands at his throat. "I-I'll-"

"I'll be fine," Hawkeye cut him off, flashing him a ghost of a smile. In reality, she doubted she would be. But as long as her team was safe, even for just a while longer, she'd do whatever was needed of her. Without looking back at Havoc and Fuery, Riza followed the doctor and his crony out of the decrepit cell.

She heard the sound of the barred door clang shut behind her as she was jerked along behind the doctor and his accessory. Over her shoulder she saw a third man standing near the door, this one taller and lankier; though he had the same eerie presence about him.

Turning back to face forward, she watched the doctor plodding along in front of her. After a few moments, she gathered the courage to speak. "The General… is he… Is he broken as well?"

Without rotating to look back at her, the doctor continued walking. "Hmm… I would suppose…" he pondered for a few moments before glancing over his shoulder at her. "What do you think?"

She quickly shook her head in reply. "No… No, he isn't."

The doctor turned back around and rubbed his chin. "I suppose you're right. After all, he knew we were out there. Unfortunately, he sent broken soldiers to do his work, so he certainly can't be accountable for your flaws."

If that was the case, Riza would accept it. Anything to keep them off of the General's trail. Even if it meant convincing them that she, rather than the General, instead fit their brazen, heinous definition of "broken."

Still, if she was going to die, she figured that she would wring as much information from them as possible. "Have you been selling weapons illegally to Aerugo?"

"My, my, you sure are full of questions," the doctor replied, a tinge of annoyance in his voice. "But yes," he continued quickly, "I am. I have to fund my practice _somehow_."

Oddly, she felt a sense of relief. At least the men they were tracking were indeed the ones they had sought from the beginning.

"Of course," Dr. Beller went on, "You are welcome to repay me after I fix you by serving for me."

_Like hell I would_… Riza opened her mouth to respond, but was interrupted by a loud hum coming from the darkness ahead of them. As they advanced forward, however, that "hum" morphed into a combination of howls and screeching. Disturbed by the noise, Riza tried covering one of her ears with her free hand while struggling to break free from the larger man's iron grip. Her attempts, however, failed, causing him to tighten his grip and quicken his pace, practically dragging her behind him.

The screams and howling reached its apex when they entered the dimly lit room at the end of the corridor. Riza stopped walking and squinted, trying to make out the various shapes that were shrouded in darkness. To the right appeared to be two additional men, though it was nearly impossible to make out their features. To the left, where the source of the agonized screams was coming from, was a wall lined with cages. And in the middle of the room was a massive and complex transmutation circle etched into the cement.

Ignoring the fact that his prisoner had stopped walking, the massive man yanked Riza along behind him and past the steel cages.

The creatures inside became hushed as he lumbered by, but quickly resumed their deafening cries when she passed. One in particular threw itself against its prison, desperately trying to break through. Upon seeing it, Riza leapt backwards in horror. The beast's wild, white orbs stared back at her; gnashing its sharp, pointed teeth as it did so. Pressing is hairless, grotesque face against the bars of its cage, the small, cat-like creature tried desperately to claw its way to her, yowling hungrily.

Riza launched herself away, running into the monster that was holding her. As she frantically tried pulling away, the man responded with a vicious laugh, wrapping his arms around her, holding her tightly against his torso.

"What is this," she demanded, desperately trying to hide her panic.

The doctor eyed her curiously, tilting his head to the side. "This is my office," he replied slowly, unsure of what she was asking of him. He slowly looked toward the wall that was lined with cages, "And those are my failures," he added gloomily.

"But I'm done making failures," he suddenly cried out joyfully, "because I have finally cracked the code!" Dr. Beller rubbed his hands together eagerly. "And now I have a new purpose. T-to fix the military. Every last one of them. Then they'll want me back… Otherwise they'll be sorry!"

Riza made one last attempt to struggle out of the minion's grasp, but to no avail. The pieces had clicked in her mind. It all made sense now…

The "doctor" was "fixing" people by taking away the one thing that defined their very being… Their humanity.

Dr. Beller had now turned his attention back to Riza, his sinister, crooked smile spread across his face. "Now, I just need a small blood sample, so please work with me here." Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a long, curved hunting knife that was caked in a thick layer of dried blood.

"You don't have to do this," Riza cried out in a last-ditch effort, struggling once more against the minion's iron grip on her.

Ignoring her completely, the doctor snapped his fingers and pointed toward the center of the room.

The doctor's subordinate obediently toted her over to the intricately-drawn transmutation circle per the doctor's request. When he had reached the center, he readjusted his hold on her, freeing one of his arms while keeping one arm wrapped around her. Using his free hand, he reached over her head and grabbed her chin, pulling it upward and exposing her neck.

She flinched as she felt a pair of cold, calloused hands push her turtle-neck away, exposing her neck further.

"Oh…" the doctor breathed in awe. "Someone already outlined it for me. How kind..."

She tensed when she felt a light pressure on her neck as he traced the slightly raised scar that ran from her right ear to her left clavicle. A moment later, she felt something cold and metallic slide along its entire length, followed by a sudden burst of warmth. The all-too-familiar pain of having her throat slit followed seconds later, radiating first throughout her neck, then her entire body.

She heard the doctor scream instructions to his minion, but she was unable to make out his words over the pulsing that filled her ears. She assumed that he had ordered the man to release her, because moments after his directions, she was dropped to the floor. Immediately she reached up, sticking her fingers into the wound as an attempt to stop the bleeding. The warm, sticky blood refused to stop, instead continuing to flow freely from the wound like a raging river, threatening to completely dry her body out in mere minutes.

Her wide, frightened eyes scanned up and met the doctor's, whose were filled with sheer delight. He held her gaze for barely a second before turning and barking an indistinguishable order to his right-hand man.

The man disappeared, and then reappeared hurriedly, carrying something large and fur-covered by its scruff in one of his massive hands.

The doctor quickly rushed over to it, blocking it from her field of vision as he went to work. She heard a yelp of pain as the doctor slid his knife across its throat. Beneath it, she saw a splash of blood splatter across the ground.

The doctor bellowed another order to the man, whom quickly jogged over to the circle and abandoned the creature in the circle next to Riza.

Her eyes widened with recognition, then horror at the sight of the animal.

An emaciated, silver wolf lay stretched out in front of her. Its bright yellow eyes screamed at her in confusion as the trail of its blood ran across the pavement toward Riza's.

The instant the two blood supplies met, the doctor cried out triumphantly before yelling one final order to his subordinate.

Moments after the sound of the echo of hands slapping concrete, the transmutation circle beneath Riza and the wolf began to glow a deep purple, emitting a black fog that swirled around her body. Time seemed to slow to a crawl as her panicked, sherry eyes moved upward, meeting the brilliant yellow eyes of the creature that shared the circle with her. For what seemed like an eternity, neither one of them wavered, sharing a mutual sense of agony and despair. Without warning, a pulse erupted from the center of the circle, shaking her body to its core. A heartbeat later, an overwhelming explosion of pain ripped through her body, threatening to tear her apart from the inside out. Her hands went from her throat to her head in a desperate attempt to stop the sensation of her skull splitting in two. The creature lying next to her howled as it writhed in pain. She followed suit, her screams blending with it as she felt her entire body being contorted, rebuilt, and torn apart again. A sudden flash of white light accompanied by a feeling of numbness overcame Riza's senses before hurling her into a dark void of nothingness.

* * *

><p>Riza's eyes flew open as the agonizing pain returned; chasing away the feelings of numbness she had desperately clung to. She coughed a few times, tasting blood in her mouth. Through her blurred vision, she could make out her arms in her field of vision, twitching tetanically along with her entire body. She felt groggy, unable to comprehend where she was or how she got there. Regardless, she felt an overwhelming sense of panic and fear. Wherever she was, she needed to leave.<p>

Fighting through the raging pain she felt throughout her body, she tucked her arms under herself, trying to push herself upward; however, her attempt failed, causing her to crash back to the ground, shooting a burning sensation through her joints. She cried out in pain and curled her knees to her chest in hopes that it would alleviate the torment her body felt.

Suddenly, the day's events came crashing back to her. _The mission. Being taken. Fuery. Havoc. Being dragged away. Yellow eyes. Screaming. Pain. A white hand reaching toward her. Nothingness…_

All of a sudden, an explosion tore through the air, sending fiery red sparks in every direction. The resulting noise invaded her skull, the sound threatening to rip it apart. Her hands instinctively went to her head in an attempt to block out the noise.

A second explosion quickly followed the first, this time closer to her. She could feel the heat at her back, sense the vibrations that rippled through the ground and the air as a result. Seconds later, the vibrations and the scent of hot air vanished, instead being replaced by the smell of burning flesh.

Gazing around in a cloud of confusion, she saw a pair of black boots thundering toward her. The man in those boots was suddenly in front of her, his voice resonating throughout her entire being. But she couldn't make out the words he was saying. Her ears were still ringing from the series of explosions.

Then his arms were around her, lifting her. She couldn't make out his face through the haze, but still, an overwhelming sense of calm washed over her. She recognized the faint scent of a particular men's cologne mixed in the air around him. It was the same cologne that clung to papers that he would hand her after he had (finally) signed them. The same cologne that trailed behind him when she was two paces back like always.

She was certain.

_General…_

Riza turned her head slightly, trying to focus on his face. Slowly, but surely, her vision began to clear, highlighting his features.

However, those features were not ones she'd ever expect to see on his face, directed toward her, nonetheless.

His expression screamed of confusion, pain, shock, and, dare she even wonder... Repulsion?

What was worse, she came to realize as her heart stopped, was when his face twisted in anguish and he uttered those simple, yet substantial words:

"Oh my god."

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** _So ends chapter two of my random 4:00am story idea._

_A few things:_

_One, I didn't really give an overly detailed description to the "minion" guy, because he himself isn't that important to the story. So basic description for him. There will be a few more interesting "hench guys" that I will be more detailed with at some point in the story (because I actually have a plot outlined now)._

_Two, this chapter is out before _Pressure Point's _next chapter because I had this one mostly written out, so I just cleaned it up and released it. Expect _Pressure Point _out sometime next week. I wasn't entirely happy with how I wrapped up the last chapter, so I'm doing a more detailed rewrite of the end (and will include it in the next chapter). _

_Third, yes, the doctor is quite crazy. He has a very erratic train of thought, and that is done on purpose. (which you will see more of, because his "purpose" isn't fully out there yet).One minute he wants to help the military and the next he hates them all! And how Mustang found them will be explained (since I made it seem like they were untraceable last time...)_

_Fourth, expect Edward to show up next chapter! I'm excited for his role in this story now that I've started to flesh it out in my head._

_Fifth, no, Riza doesn't look like a freak. Well, you'll see next chapter anyways..._

_Sixth, yes, silver is not a species (but a color) of wolf. Grey wolf wold be the correct name. More facts to follow!_

_**So, feel free to review, because I'd love feedback (constructive) on this idea/story, or feedback on details, etc.**! Thanks to all that reviewed, followed, or favorited this story so far! _


	3. Hurts

_Brrrriiiiiiing!_

…..

_Brrrriiiiiiiiing!_

Edward Elric reluctantly opened his eyes and groaned softly. After staring up at the ceiling for a moment, he grabbed the clock from the nightstand next to his bed and squinted at its face.

It was 3:06a.m. _Damn…_

"Edward," his wife muttered groggily next to him, "Get the phone."

"Alright, alright," he mumbled back as he glared at the back of her head, though his look was short-lived. Feeling a smile creep across his lips, he changed his tune. Waking up next to Winry, regardless of the hour, was the best part of his day.

Edward swung his legs out from beneath the blankets and planted them on the floor. After one final yawn, he got to his feet and sauntered over to the phone.

"Hullo," he answered as he picked up the receiver, fighting back the urge to yawn again.

"Edward?" the caller responded almost immediately in a panic-filled voice.

He frowned to himself. Why the hell was Mustang calling at his hour? If this was about turning in his most recent research report late, Edward swore he would kill the man the next time he saw him…

"Who else would it be," he grumbled back, hoping to get the point across that it was _three 'o clock in the morning_.

"I need you to come to Central," Mustang replied hurriedly, "Today."

"What?! Why," Edward shot back agitatedly. "If this is about that research report, Mustang, I swear to God-"

"Edward, please," the Flame Alchemist cut him off, desperation rising in his voice. "I'll explain everything when you get here. There will be a ticket waiting for you at Resembool's station for the 6:05a.m. train. Breda will pick you up."

"Okay, fine! I'll-"

_Click!_

Edward pulled his ear away from the receiver and furrowed his brow, frowning down at it. After a small shrug, he hung up the phone and moved over to the closet, pulling a small black suitcase from its depths. After he had opened the suitcase and began folding and placing a few items of clothing in it, he heard a small creak behind him. Smiling slightly, he turned toward the noise. "You can go back to bed, Winry. I just got called to Central."

"Is everything okay," she asked with concern.

"Who knows," Edward replied. "I bet that idiot Mustang forgot how to tie his own shoes. Hawkeye's probably so fed up with him right now that he's instead come crawling to me for help," he joked.

"But why would he call at three in the morning?" Winry folded her arms across her chest and frowned.

He shrugged in response. "I dunno. Maybe he lost track of time or something. You know how they all are. They've practically been living in HQ for the past few months."

"Well, alright," Winry sighed and shifted her weight from one hip to the other. "Just please let me know when you get there and if there is anything wrong."

Edward stood and walked over to his wife. He reached up and gently ruffled her hair, leaving his hand on top of her head. "I'll be back soon, okay?"

After a confirming nod from Winry, Edward guided her toward himself and lightly kissed her forehead. Drawing her into a tight hug, he rested his chin atop her head and frowned. He didn't want her to see his dread; she couldn't afford to worry about anything right now. She didn't hear Mustang's voice; didn't hear the panic and distress in it.

He knew.

Something was horribly, horribly wrong.

* * *

><p>Roy Mustang sat with his face in his hands, staring at the floor through trembling fingers. The deep breaths he took, meant for calming himself, had intensified; exacerbating him nearly to the point of hyperventilation. Nothing could calm the seething, roaring waves of anguish that swirled within his mind.<p>

He should have been there. He had been too comfortable, too focused on the future, when he should have been focusing on the present. _Careless and reckless…_he thought bitterly to himself.

Still, he hoped and prayed that it was all just one long, hellish nightmare, and that he'd wake up in his office surrounded by his team.

He had failed them, sending each and every one of them into the pits of hell. Like leading lambs to slaughter…

"General."

Roy nearly jumped out of his skin upon being pulled from his thoughts. Snapping his head up, his eyes met the small, dark ones of Dr. Knox.

"I'm done with her physical," the man continued as he wiped a bead of sweat from his brow. "Temperature's elevated, but other vitals are normal. From what I can tell, body systems are functioning normally, but bloodwork should confirm that."

"Thank you," Roy replied hollowly.

"You might want to go in there," the doctor said with a gruff as he thrust his thumb over his shoulder, gesturing toward the door. "Didn't say a single word to me."

Alarmed, Roy replied, "What?! Why?"

"Dunno," Dr. Knox shrugged, "She was very tense throughout the entire process. Barely even finished the physical-"

Roy was on his feet now. Pushing past Dr. Knox, he made his way to the closed door and knocked, waiting for a response. When none came, he moved his hand to the doorknob. Still not a sound.

Finally, he decided to go in, whether or not he received an invitation.

When he opened the door, his breath caught in his throat. Despite knowing what happened, and knowing the repercussions of human transmutation, something deep down inside of him expected to see something different; something contorted and unrecognizable.

Instead, he was greeting with nearly the same flawless features he had always loved. The same long, blonde hair that cascaded down her shoulders and back. The same fair Amestrian skin that her father had claimed was from her mother's side of the family…

And yet, his eyes couldn't help but be drawn to the surgeon's cap that was nestled on her head, hiding a secret that only a handful of people knew…

He was abruptly jolted out of his thoughts when she shifted uneasily, her saffron-colored eyes now gazing intensely at him.

* * *

><p>As soon as Dr. Knox left, Riza leaned back against the bed's headboard and pulled her knees up to her chest, hugging them tightly to her body. Squeezing her eyes shut, she let her head fall forward, resting her forehead against her knees.<p>

Every fiber of her being was still screaming, forcing tremors to rip throughout her entire body. Even something as simple as fabric brushing against her skin was enough to make her want to cry out.

The doctor's exam had been a nightmare. Every time Dr. Knox would graze her or touch her skin during his exam, she bit her tongue and swallowed the urge to yelp in pain. Obviously noting this, the doctor moved more slowly and took his time, quietly warning her before he would listen to her heart or feel her abdomen. But the longer the exam went on, the more anxious they both got.

Dr. Knox had already been guarded and anxious when he had entered the room, completely different from the collected and nonchalant doctor she knew him to be. His movements had been almost mechanical at first, with very little communication and eye contact. She could see his dilated pupils; smell the salted sweat on his brow. Hear the rapid, tachy beating of his heart; it practically threatened to burst from his chest.

He was afraid of her…

The exam ended abruptly after he collected a blood sample from her arm, which had led to a cold, warning stare from her. When he recapped the needle, he nodded his head and muttered a quick "thank you" before quickly getting to his feet and rapidly excusing himself from the room.

She could hear him just outside the door, rattling off her medical record to someone who had been right there. She already knew who it was. Roy had never left after he was called out to receive a report on Fuery's condition.

She found herself wishing that he wouldn't come in. The way he looked at her was unsettling; like he was still trying to determine if he was really talking to "Riza." It almost hurt worse than the pain her body was plagued with. Having those onyx-eyes watching her, studying her like some alchemical experiment; enduring the sounds of his racing heart in her ears.

Hearing a knock on the door, she felt her heart sink. He did not fail her subconscious expectations.

Roy quietly slipped into the room, stopping just as he entered. His eyes were on her, studying her again.

_Stop it._

She looked up, her eyes catching his.

For a moment, neither one wavered; both of them too focused on watching the other.

Finally, she broke eye contact and focused her gaze on the floor.

Moments later, she heard him slowly advance toward her bed. When he sat down, the slight movement of the mattress caused a flash of pain to rip through her. Gritting her teeth and squeezing her eyes shut, she leaned forward and gasped.

He moved swiftly, turning toward her in a state of panic. "What's wrong?!"

She could give him an entire rundown of everything that was racing through her mind at that moment, every agonizing pain she felt course through her body when she moved.

And yet, she didn't think even that would get the point across. Sometimes, all it took was a few, meaningful words to express everything she felt in her entire mind, body, and soul.

She took a deep, shaking breath and simply murmured, "It hurts…"

* * *

><p>"<em>It hurts…" The ivory-furred chimera rumbled as it slowly looked up at Roy with its white, soulful eyes. "Daddy said… it wouldn't hurt… but it hurts…"<em>

_Roy dropped to one knee and gently placed a hand on the creature's head, lightly tossing its brown mop. It leaned into it, accepting the comforting gesture. "Where… where does it hurt," he managed to murmur, trying his best to hide his rage. The longer he looked at the creature, the more disgusted he became. _

_How could that man have done this to her? To his own _daughter_? _

_What made it worse, though, was the fact that she didn't understand. Or, at least on the outside she made no indication that she understood._

_Seeming to sense his anger, the creature shied away and bowed its large, rectangular head, whimpering quietly to itself. "I want… Daddy," it spoke, trying desperately to form its thoughts into speech._

"_Please, tell me where it hurts," Roy appealed to the creature, "and then we'll see if Daddy can come back-"_

"_No," the chimera growled. "Daddy… now. Daddy, daddy, daddy," it began whine over and over again._

"_Sir," Hawkeye placed her hand on his shoulder, squeezing it gently, "Let's regroup," she said softly as her eyes wandered to the chimera. "We can ask her again in a little while."_

_Roy remained where he was, contemplating whether or not he would agree. Finally, after realizing that the chimera would not cooperative further, he reluctantly stood._

_Upon seeing the man stand, the creature's eyes rose up to find his, curling its lips back into a twisted, hopeful smile. "You bring back… Daddy? And… Big Brother… Ed?"_

_Roy grimaced, and took a deep breath. "I'll try," he promised, forcing his lips to form a plastic smile. _

_Hearing this, the creature pulled its lips back further and thumped its massive white tail on the floor eagerly. "O…kay," it responded. "I… wait… See you…soon?"_

_He nodded curtly toward the creature before turning and hastily tramping out of the room. Roy briskly made his way down the hallway, avoiding the looks of countless MPs that were combing the scene. A few steps behind him, he heard another pair of boots plodding along, trying to keep pace. Finally, he made it outside. Reaching out, he found the side of the house and leaned heavily against it, feeling a wave of nausea wash over him._

"_Are you alright?"_

_He managed to look up and meet those concern-filled sherry eyes. _

"_It's deplorable… despicable that something like this happened," he growled in reply. _And all in the name of the military, no less… _He didn't blame Edward for nearly beating the man to death. _

"_I know, sir," Hawkeye replied as she looked away. "To think a monster like that could exist…"_

_He stared at her, utterly dumbfounded by her response. The fact she thought that of a child was-_

"_A man like that is nothing more than a monster; a wolf in sheep's clothing," she continued as she rested her back against the side of the house, hugging her clipboard to her chest. "A monster so consumed by his work that he doesn't value the life of his only family… of his only daughter." _

_Roy felt a pang of familiarity and regret. A forsaken little girl… victim to her father's lustful pursuit of power and knowledge…_

_She turned her eyes back toward Roy, a pained expression concealing her normally stoic features, "Is there anything that can be done?"_

_He knew that she was referring to an alchemical cure, to which there was none. The science and complexity of chimerical alchemy was far too great for any alchemist to comprehend to date. As far as he knew, any and all attempts in separation had ended in the death of the creature. Regretfully, he shook his head. "No," he muttered in defeat, "there is nothing that can be done."_

_She didn't respond at first, allowing his words to sink in. Finally, she spoke, her words tinged with sadness, "Will they at least alleviate her pain?"_

_Honestly, he didn't know. In fact, with a case like that, euthanasia might be the kinder route. Seeing the twisted form of the child had confirmed that the transmutation was far from perfect. It was likely the creature was missing various organ systems or had multiple organs functioning against each other, disrupting the homeostasis and balance of the body. If that was the case, the child would likely die from the turmoil in her small, misshapen form. And if that didn't end her life, he knew that she would be carted away to be studied and poked and prodded. Either way, the child would lose because of her father's arrogance. _

_He could feel her eyes on him, studying him, understanding his thoughts. Raising his gaze to meet hers, they silently formed a pact, deciding that they would do what they could to ensure that Shou Tucker would be brought to justice… for the sake of a forsaken little girl._

* * *

><p>"It hurts," she murmured again. "And…" she looked up at him, her eyes glistening, "I'm frightened, Roy."<p>

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Roy instinctively reached out to take her hand in his. "Riza…"

She pulled her hand from his reach and raised it, painfully grasping the cap on her head. "How can I continue following you when I'm like this…?"

Peeling the cap off, she winced as she pulled it down and crumpled it into a small ball in her hands.

Roy's chest tightened and he swallowed hard, trying to push back his feelings of dread. Despite wanting to look away, Roy found that he couldn't, his eyes transfixed on the pair of silvery, triangular ears flattened against her skull. He noted the remnants of dried blood that still caked their edges, feeling a surge of disgust and anger swelling inside of him.

"Riza," he reached out once again, his hands desperately grasping for hers.

"Don't," she growled sharply as she drew away from him. "Don't… I-"

Her hand suddenly flew to her mouth and covered it as she began to violently cough.

In an instant Roy was next to her, one arm stretched behind her and on her back, the other on her shoulder. She leaned into him, quaking as the barrage of coughs racked her body. He kept his grip on her until the coughs finally ceased.

Panting and choking for air, she pulled her hand away from her mouth and stopped; taking one last strangled breath as she stared down at it, her eyes widened in horror.

Seeing her panic, Roy quickly focused his gaze on her hand and froze. "Oh my god…"

Her palm was now covered with a fresh layer of blood. Trembling, she gasped, "What-what's hap-happening…?"

Roy was already at his feet, rushing toward the door. They needed help. They needed-

Upon opening the door, he crashed into someone that had positioned themselves outside of it. Recovering quickly, Roy was about to push past the unknown until he recognized him. "Edward…?"

Edward Elric stood in front of him, his face pale and his eyes widened in disbelief. "Mustang… What… What's going on?"

* * *

><p><strong>AN: So end's Chapter 3. I tried taking a different approach by implying on a few things, rather than coming out and saying them. That being said, I hope I implied enough why I included that little Nina (RIP) insert. If not, I will try to briefly explain below:**

**I wanted to make a parallel between Riza and Nina by having them both describe their experiences by simply saying that "it hurts." Since Nina was a child and didn't have the ability to fully describe what she was feeling, it seemed safe to think that that's what she'd say. Riza, on the other hand, has the capacity to tell Roy exactly how she feels. But rather give him a grocery list of everything; she resorted to saying it because: 1) It does hurt. And 2) Roy was (obviously) there the day they went to Nina's house. He saw the turmoil and pain through Nina's actions and her few words.  
><strong>

**But, I hope it made sense to begin with!**

**So, next chapter should be sometime within the next week or two. Expect Parental!RoyEd and Friendship!RizaEd. Also, of course, the status of Fuery and Havoc. I haven't decided on a title for the next chapter yet.**

**Definitely feel free to review and let me know what you think. I have a cool idea for the storyline, but I want to make sure that I am expressing everything by writing clearly and effectively (and by keeping the characters as "in character" as possible).**

**And unlike Pressure Point, no, they will not be spending 50,000 chapters in a hospital setting :P**


	4. Failure

**A/N: **_Quick warning (though not sure if it should be a warning or not…), but there are medical themes described in this chapter, namely physical exam. Sometimes I feel like it's awkward to write and talk about, but nothing crazy here (the most extreme being 'abdominal palpation,' or feeling the abdomen for abnormalities). I figured I would warn people since sometimes exams seem weird, though they aren't weird to me because in my profession we do them quite often. There will be a few more medical themes described in the story (such as anatomy, pharmaceuticals, canine science, etc.,) because I'm a veterinary student and I like incorporating what I have learned into stories. :)_

_Anyways, onto the fourth chapter of _Humanity!

* * *

><p>Edward knew exactly what had happened.<p>

After he had arrived at Central Station, a rather shaken Breda was there to pick him up. Edward didn't even have to ask him; the man told him everything.

Everything about the mission. The lost communication. Finding nearly a dozen slain soldiers. Their stroke of sheer luck in locating their other comrades. Havoc and Fuery covered in blood, desperately clinging to life. Hearing a bloodcurdling scream. Mustang vanishing, reappearing with Hawkeye mere minutes later; his face as pale as a sheet, her face drenched in blood.

He told him about their conditions. Every little detail.

Edward didn't even think; he simply put himself on auto-pilot, maneuvering his way through groups of nurses and past hospital patients as they shuffled along while Breda nearly sprinted behind him, trying to keep up.

It had to be a test. Just one, big test to prove he really was capable of his new advisor position. He'd walk in and they'd all be there, congratulating him on his rapid response time. He'd hate them, and maybe he'd even punch Mustang in the face for making him go through it, but at least they'd all be alive and well and not-

Edward didn't even realize he had made it to the room Breda had directed him too. He was just suddenly there, his hand on the doorknob. Then it opened and Mustang rushed out and plowed into him, practically knocking him on his feet.

"Edward…?"

Edward looked up, his golden eyes meeting the widened, terrified midnight ones that belonged to the General. He could feel the blood drain from his face, most likely matching it to the shade of Mustang's visage. "Mustang… What… What's going on? What happened?"

As Mustang opened his mouth to respond, a fit of coughing from behind him interrupted him, causing him to whip his head around. At the same time, a hand that seemed to appear out of nowhere, reached over and touched Mustang's shoulder. The black-haired man gasped and practically jumped out of his skin.

The male nurse that had approached the pair quickly drew his hand back and softly said, "General, we need to talk to you regarding Sergeant Fuery's condition."

Mustang stared back in a complete daze, his mouth slightly ajar; as if he couldn't comprehend the man's simple statement.

As the nurse opened his mouth to repeat his comment, Edward abruptly cut him off. "Go."

Mustang looked back at Edward, still in utter shock.

"Go!"

Edward's forceful command seemed to snap the General out of his daze. He attempted to gather his words but was stopped when the nurse spoke up again and asked him to follow him.

"Everything's fine. Go," Edward said again, softer. "Don't worry."

Seemingly calming down more, Mustang mouthed a "thank you," before being led away by the nurse, but not after turning to glance over his shoulder, past Edward.

He took his chance to quietly slip into the room and close the door with a soft _click_.

Edward knew the man would be back in a couple of minutes. So if he wanted to get anything done, he'd have to do it now, lest he have the General breathing down his neck the entire time.

He took a deep breath and exhaled. _Don't appear nervous, _he quietly commanded himself as he felt his pulse slow. Turning back toward the other side of the room, he zeroed in on the hospital bed.

Sitting cross-legged and leaning against the headboard, staring down and to the side of the bed was Hawkeye. Just Hawkeye.

Edward walked quickly and confidently toward the bed, grabbing a tongue depressor and a handful of tissues as he went. He slowly eased onto the bed across from Hawkeye, allowing his heavy automail leg to hang off the edge. For a few moments, neither one stirred; his eyes focused on her, studying her, while she continued to stare at the floor, her fringe covering her eyes.

Upon seeing the blood in the palm of her hand and the small trail of it that ran from her lip, Edward's stomach sank. Blood... That was _not _a good sign.

He lifted his arm and extended his hand toward her, offering the tissues he had grabbed. "Here," he said softly, watching her anxiously.

Head still lowered, she lifted saffron-colored eyes to meet his.

_Please speak, _he silently begged.

As if she had read his mind, she gently took the tissues from his hand and dabbed the corner of her mouth before slowly wiping her hands with them. "Thank you, Edward," she murmured, lifting her head slightly to see him better.

Edward felt a sense of relief wash over him. _Vocal cords normal and intact_, he mentally noted, along with noting a change in iris color. Making a list in his head had always felt so wrong, but he knew that in order to make sure he covered all the bases, he had to go through all the steps.

And judging by the look she was giving him, he knew that she was expecting him to follow protocol as well, with her being no exception. She had accompanied Edward and Mustang before; she knew the guidelines and what it meant to fall inside or outside them.

After Edward had become the State Alchemist Advisor, one of the first laws he urged the Fuhrer to pass was the Chimerical Act, which decreed that, unless used for licensed research purposes, the practice of chimerical alchemy on either humans or animals was strictly forbidden. Despite passing this law, however, Edward still found that he was constantly called out to investigate cases the military had discovered; as much as he hated to think it, he felt fortunate and relieved that they had all been animal-based experiments. But he had been called out so often that a protocol was developed in order to assess the quality of life for the creature.

To some, it seemed simple enough. If it was not missing anything vital and was not suffering, it would often be relocated or placed in a setting where it could be observed. If not… the kindest thing that could be done was euthanasia. And even though it was the right thing to do, Edward still felt a sense failure when the latter was decided. Even though he and Al were working, researching, and developing while thousands of miles apart, they still had only bits and pieces of knowledge that could even be applied to separation.

Now he was forced to use this supposedly "simple protocol" on a person; someone that cared about nonetheless.

It wasn't right. It wasn't right. It wasn't fair!-

"Did the General call you," she asked, breaking the silence that had stretched between them.

"Yeah," Edward replied lightly, delicately, honestly.

"I'm sorry," she uttered, looking at him fully now, "that we had to pull you away from Resembool."

He allowed the corners of his lips to turn upward slightly. "Hey. Don't worry about it. It's my job, and besides… Even if it _wasn't _my job, I'd come regardless." He allowed a genuine smile to cross his face. "You two have been there for us for so long, I wouldn't dare think of turning my back on you guys now." It was the truth. He would never admit it to Mustang, but he was grateful for all of the support he received from Mustang and Hawkeye, even after he first left the military (although, only to be back again).

Her lips curled upward into a small, yet genuine smile, understanding what he had not spoken out loud.

"Now," he began slowly, but more confidently, "I just want to check a few things, if that's okay. But if you don't feel comfortable anymore, please let me know." She was comfortable with him now; he did not want to mess this up…

She nodded in reply. Like he remembered, she knew the protocol.

"Could you open your mouth," he asked as he shifted the tongue depressor to his dominant hand.

Hawkeye compiled, opening her mouth partway.

He peered inside, noting the thin layer of blood that covered her mouth, and the two pairs of prominent canines that replaced the normal, smaller pair. When he gently compressed her tongue with the depression stick, however, she gasped and quickly drew away.

"I'm sorry," he quickly apologized. "But I think I saw something. Could you open your mouth one more time?" When she did, he peered inside once more. _That_ was a good sign.

"Do you feel any pain in your mouth," he asked as he pulled the tongue depressor away.

She furrowed her brow, as if trying to centralize the pain, which he was sure, was plentiful. Finally she nodded and muttered a quiet "yes".

"You bit through your tongue, and it's still bleeding," he explained. "I bet that's the source of the blood." Seeing signs of relief on her face, he continued, "I want to check your abdomen for signs of bleeding, too, if that's okay. I know it'll hurt, but please try not to tense up…"

Again she nodded in compliance.

He scooted closer on the bed and placed one hand on her abdomen, the other on the small of her back, lightly compressing as he did so. Nothing felt unusual, he decided. Nothing that felt like misplaced blood, distended organs, or… He furrowed his brow.

Suddenly she tensed, causing him to draw back quickly. Looking up, he saw her concerned expression. Almost instantly he realized his mistake. She had sensed his uncertainty.

"I'm sorry," Edward said sincerely. "Everything seems fine," he reassured her. "It's just… well…" He suddenly felt like an idiot. He'd probably _sound _like an idiot too, but…

"Well, I guess I'm not used to _not _feeling a baby," he admitted sheepishly, feeling his face redden slightly.

His admission seemed to surprise Hawkeye at first, but she quickly concealed it behind a small smile. "I haven't seen Winry in a while. How far along is she now?"

"Six months," he replied, albeit a bit proudly. "She and Pinako think it's a girl, but I'm thinking it's a boy."

Her expression softened. "I'm happy for you two. I can't wait to meet it…" she trailed off during the last sentence, lacing it with uncertainty.

Not wanting her to dwell on the uncertainty of the future, Edward quickly jumped back into the protocol. There was just one more thing he needed to check.

"How about we discuss that once I'm done," he suggested quickly. "I just need to check your…" It was his turn to trail off. _Her _ears? _Those_ ears? The notion felt awkward; it was a sensitive topic…

Seeming to understand, she looked down and murmured, "That's fine," before looking away.

He stood cautiously and stepped over to her side. The triangular, silver ears had remained flat against her head throughout their conversation, twitching once in a great while. From what he could see, they lightened immensely at the tips, changing from deep silver to a light blonde. _Looks proportional_, he noted silently as he leaned closer, moving to brace his knee atop the bed. _The ear canal should be…_

Suddenly, she let out a high-pitched yelp, causing him to leap back in surprise. Almost instantly, her hands were over her mouth, a look of mortification reflected in her saffron eyes.

His mind was racing at a mile a minute. He hadn't even _touched _them. What was wrong? What happened? What-?

His eyes trained down to where his knee had been five seconds earlier, now noticing that the sheets weren't lying perfectly flat, forming an almost tubular shape.

God, he felt stupid. While he was trying to not focus too much attention on one key change, he had inadvertently drawn attention to probably _the_ most sensitive one.

His face was burning. He did not expect that. He did not expect that. He did _not _expect that! "I'm sorry," he quickly blurted out.

Her hands still over her mouth, she nodded her head quickly, blinking away any wetness that arose from the sudden shooting pain.

Edward opened his mouth again but was quickly stopped when he heard the door swing open. Quickly jerking his head upright, he saw Mustang in the door, wearing a mask of exasperation and panic.

* * *

><p>"How's Fuery," Edward asked, finally breaking the silence of the seemingly endless car ride to the warehouse where they found Mustang's team. The young man had, for some reason, wanted to get to the site as quickly as possible in order to examine the transmutation circle; in the hopes that he could try and begin formulating a reversal.<p>

Roy felt his chest tighten. It had been a tough discussion with the doctor.

The blows kept coming…

"He's in a coma," he finally whispered, his words riddled with guilt. "There was a lot of blood loss, and they suspect a massive infection…" He paused for a moment. "And Havoc… He'll be okay. A few of his tracheal rings are crushed, so he needs to receive oxygen."

After a few moments of silence, Edward spoke again. "You need to stop blaming yourself. Did you foresee any of this," Edward asked rhetorically. Roy knew that the young man knew him well enough. He would _never_ send his team out on a mission like that if that level of danger had existed…

Roy didn't answer, keeping his eyes glued to the road. They were almost there.

"I need you to pull yourself away from the situation," Edward murmured as he too continued to stare straight ahead. "I need you to think about this alchemy logically with me."

He could hear the pain in Edward's words. It was a subject he hated discussing, and for good reasons.

Despite Roy not replying, Edward continued. "You could see just as well as I could that the transmutation was a failure. We have both seen what a successful reaction could produce…"

Roy knew exactly what he was talking about. The differences between a failure and a success. Though the boundaries would always be considered grey, there were obvious examples they had encountered throughout the years.

The little girl, Nina, had been a failure; a concoction of child and dog that would have never fit into society again. She died as what some would describe a monster.

The chimera that had followed Greed and those that had followed Kimbley, and had later joined their side, had been relative successes. They were able to disguise themselves and blend into mainstream society, having the ability to disappear into the mix if they so choose to.

Riza did not fit in either of those extremes, falling between the cracks and into the grey area. But with such prominent and obvious features, it was clear that she tipped toward being marked as a failure, at least by the former military command's twisted standard.

The glare of flashing lights suddenly drew Roy's attention back to his driving, making him aware that they had arrived at the warehouse.

The military police were still combing the area, looking for any additional clues or evidence that could be used to track down the "doctor" and his remaining cohort.

The monster had vanished, slipping away during the confusion and mayhem he had caused, disappearing into the night. He was still out there, lurking in the shadows, possibly seeking out his next victims…

Roy stopped the car and put it into park, killing the engine. As he and Edward got out, a few MPs walked over to them, trying to give them a report of what they found. From the sounds of it, it had been nothing significant. Roy raised his hand, silencing them. "My colleague and I would like to take a look inside." Focusing his glare on a nearby lieutenant, he narrowed his midnight eyes. "Be sure that we are not disturbed."

The lieutenant quickly saluted and repeated the command into a radio device in his hand.

Roy briskly walked through the doors of the warehouse, Edward following a few steps behind.

After turning down a plethora of twisting and turning corridors, Edward asked, "How did you find them?"

Still keeping his gaze forward, Roy replied distantly, "Before we went back to square one, Lieutenant Colonel Armstrong suggested we check out this particular warehouse district. He said that he had received a few reports of 'strange noises' during the night, but had not yet investigated it. It was our only option at that point, so we took it.

"After arriving here, it was only a matter of time before we infiltrated it." He stopped to step over the burnt remains of what appeared to be a contorted, hair-covered corpse.

"We quickly located the bodies of four additional men. Finding Havoc and Fuery happened soon after. I left Colonel Armstrong and Lieutenant Breda with them to continue the search for Captain Hawkeye alone," he paused briefly, his voice wavering; a surge of emotion welling up inside of him. "I discovered her shortly after… After I had heard a-" He stopped a doorway at the end of the long winding hallway and murmured, "Scream."

Edward paused behind him, but said nothing. He preferred it that way. Taking a deep breath, he stepped into the darkened room, the familiarity pounding his senses.

The scent of burnt flesh and iron still wafted in the air like a fog. The cries and moans of the caged beasts that trimmed the walls were now gone, leaving an eerie silence in their wake. It appeared as it did when Roy had first arrived there. The burnt bodies of two additional chimera laid in a twisted heaps off to the side of the transmutation circle that decorated the floor. In its center was a large, dried, deep red pool of blood.

The memories flooded his mind, and Roy suddenly felt nauseous. He covered his mouth and nose with his hand and turned away, squeezing his eyes shut.

Feeling a hand on his shoulder, he cracked his eyes open, peering into a pair of golden ones. "Take a minute. I'm going to take a look."

Roy nodded in reply and slowly closed his eyes again, trying desperately to push the memories of screams and blood from his mind.

He didn't know how long he had been standing there, or how long he had been lost in his thoughts. All he knew is that he was suddenly pulled from his stupor by a voice. "Edward?" He opened his eyes and turned toward the young man.

Edward was crouched down, sitting back on his heels, his hands clamped onto his head. He murmured something that Roy couldn't make out. Taking a step closer, Roy called his name again, a feeling of anxiousness rising inside of him. "Edward?"

"No… That's-that's impossible…," the young man muttered to himself, as if he hadn't heard Roy.

"Edward!" Roy was over at his side, crouched down next to him. Horrified golden eyes rose to meet his, pulling Roy back into a sea of dread. "What!? What's impossible?!"

"That-that rune!" Edward pointed a trembling finger toward a symbol etched into the circle, just a few feet in front of him. "He… He-" His eyes widened, as if fully realizing the gravity of his own words, "He used a Philosopher's Stone."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **_So, now things get VERY interesting. I hope that I portrayed everyone as in character as possible. I imagine Edward still having some of his quirky, boyish personality, but also see him being serious when he needs to be, since he is now around 21-22 years old._

_And in case you didn't figure it out, what was under the sheet was a tail. I was so tempted to have Edward be like: "Nope. Nope! Imma let Mustang deal with that" (of course, with a bit more finesse). But I figured it would be inappropriately timed and placed, though I may have occasional awkward humor from time to time._

_I'm going to have a few weeks of exams coming up, so expect updates probably within 2 weeks (after that, only one more exam until finals in December!) I haven't named the next chapter yet, but there will be some action and suspense, of course._

_Anyways, don't hesitate to let me know what you think! Thank you to all that have reviewed, favorited, and followed _Humanity!_ You guys are great :)_


	5. Equivalent Exchange?

**A/N: **_Important author's note at end._

* * *

><p>"He…he used a Philosopher's Stone."<p>

Edward's widened eyes moved slowly back to the rune in the hopes that he had made a mistake. But the same trigonal, blood-caked symbol he saw was still there, mocking him with its existence. He could feel Mustang watching him. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see that the man's ashen face was mixed with horror and confusion. He knew what the Stone was; he had seen it in action before. He has seen the good and the bad that resulted from it. But he didn't understand what it meant…

If Edward's hunch was correct, which he was positive it was, nothing good would come of that failed transmutation.

He should have known. The Law of Equivalent Exchange could never be broken.

"Edward… What does this mean?" He could hear the panic rising in Mustang's voice. When Edward didn't answer, the black-haired man gripped the lapels of Edward's jacket, jerking him toward himself. "Answer me!"

Without casting a second glance toward Mustang, his eyes still focused on the seemingly simple symbol etched onto the floor, Edward whispered numbly, "There was no change in mass."

"What," the Flame Alchemist growled in bewilderment, tightening his grip on the young man's jacket.

Edward's eyes slowly scanned over to Mustang's paled visage. "There was no change in mass, so… Where did the rest of the matter go?"

"Edward… You're not making any sense…"

But he was. He could feel Mustang's grip on his coat loosening as he began to realize the gravity of what Edward had said.

The Law of Equivalent Exchange could never be bypassed, even with the use of a Philosopher's Stone. The idea that one could is simply an illusion. Taking that and the Law of Conservation of Mass into consideration, one must realize that the "product" should have the amount of matter _and _mass of the reactants.*

He should have seen it before. Because Hawkeye did not fit into the law.

Mustang's arms fell limply back at his sides after releasing Edward's jacket. He too stared at the circle, at the damned symbol etched innocently into it. "What… what does this mean," he stammered detachedly.

"That bastard got away scot-free," Edward growled bitterly as he turned away from the circle. "He used the Stone to save his own hide. He _knew_ there would be a rebound, so he mitigated the effect of the rebound on himself by dispersing it." Craning his head up and fixing his eyes on nothing in particular, Edward murmured, "The Truth took more than her humanity, Mustang… It took whatever the hell It wanted."

He slowly let his words sink in. Since the Truth could not punish the alchemist, it decided to claim its fair share from the next best thing… The "product." After taking her and playing a sick, sadistic game of mix and match, It decided what It would keep and what It would leave behind.

The heart beating in Hawkeye's chest may not be her own. Or her lungs. Or her insides. Or anything else.

The Truth was cruel…

"What do we do?" He could feel Mustang's distressed eyes on him again, desperately pleading for an answer.

But he didn't have an answer. There were too many crucial missing variables. _What _was lost? _How _can they possibly match the force of a Philosopher's Stone? _Why _did everything turn out the way it did? Without knowing any of the details, one miscalculation would be devastating.

All Edward felt was a sense of failure and uselessness. He had failed so many times before. Failed to help Nina. Failed to help all of the chimera that have since been. And now he would fail again.

"Edward…" Mustang's plea brought him back to his senses as the man gripped his shoulder. "Please… What do we do?"

Turning his gaze toward his hands in his lap, Edward dejectedly responded, "I don't know…"

* * *

><p>After sitting in a silence plagued with shock and despondency, the young man muttered to Roy that he was going to jot down the circle, to examine once they returned back to Central headquarters. With a deadened sigh, Edward silently stood and walked around the circle, seating himself on the other side, his golden eyes staring blankly at it for a few minutes before pulling out a pad of paper from his pocket.<p>

Roy remained where he was, his thoughts racing through his mind at incredible speeds. But no matter how long he stared at the circle, he couldn't make an iota of sense of what he was looking at. He wasn't the genius here. Turning his glazed look up at the blond-haired young man across from him, he watched as he scribbled down on his pad of paper, muttering to himself as he did so.

Tearing his eyes away from Edward, Roy was about to look back down at his lap in his hopeless stupor when something in the middle of the circle glistened, catching his gaze. After staring at it for a few seconds, he slowly got to his feet and staggered over to it, crouching down and picking the mysterious objects up in his hands. Raising his hands to his face, feelings of recognition flooded his mind.

In his palm were two simple, studded silver earrings, still covered in a fine layer of blood. As he held them closer, he easily identified them as the ones he had given to Riza so many years ago; their small, imperfect creased edges obvious despite the blood on them.

The same ones he had transmuted after saving up a decent amount of silver coins.

The same ones he gave her before leaving to join the academy.

The same ones she has worn since he saw her in Ishval.

And now here they were; a relic of a past that seemed so long ago. A time where he was just a boy with dreams that were too big for his own good, and she was just a girl that wanted to see those dreams come to life.

A simpler time.

Roy was snapped from his thoughts when Edward stood across from him. Weary, golden eyes found Roy's; silently signaling that he was done.

"I've got everything I need. Let's go back," the young man mumbled. "I'm going to call Al in Xing before he moves again," he stated, referring to the younger brother's wanderlust. As he turned toward the exit, he shot a glance over his shoulder at Roy, urging him to follow.

Slowly rising to his feet, Roy finally peeled his eyes away from the earrings in his hand and dropped them carefully into his pocket before starting after the young man.

* * *

><p>As Roy and Edward slowly trudged toward the exit, they heard a chorus of cursing and yelling. Casting each other a confused glance, they raced through the door and into the crisp fall night.<p>

The jeers were louder and more violent-sounding outside, echoing off of the concrete building the pair had emerged from. In front of them was a crowd of MPs, the source of the noise. Edward and Roy pushed their way through the crowd until they got to the center. Before them was a military officer, pointing his gun at an unfamiliar man that was on his knees, his massive arms wrapped behind him and restrained by two other officers.

"What is going on here," Roy blared.

Upon hearing his voice, the men within the General's immediate vicinity scrambled away, leaving only Roy and Edward anywhere near the man and his captors.

"Hello, General," the blond-haired officer with the gun smirked, his dark eyes still on his captive. "So nice of you to join us."

Roy's anger surged when he recognized the man. Lieutenant Colonel James Wilson, the subordinate of the very radical and extreme General David Thomas. Of all the people that would be involved, why did it have to be those two?

"Look at what we found slinking around," the Lieutenant Colonel gnarled as he cocked his weapon. "One of the monsters that killed our men."

Roy's eyes scanned over to the unknown man. At first glance, the man did not appear out of the ordinary. A full, dark beard and mane of equally dark hair covered most of his facial features, leaving only his brilliant green eyes as a defining feature. The longer he looked, however, the more Roy realized that this man was far from normal. Those bright green eyes he had observed contained slitted pupils, greatly contrasting any other normal appearance.

Feeling the General's eyes on him, the man turned and stared at the black-haired alchemist, his lips drawn back, revealing a set of large, prominent canines. His eyes narrowed to match his mocking accompanying grin, sending shivers down Roy's spine.

Tearing his eyes away from the captive's, Roy focused in on the Lieutenant Colonel. "Where's General Thomas?"

Eyes still focused on the monster of a man, the Lieutenant Colonel nonchalantly responded, "He's back at Central HQ, getting prepared to ask your men about the incident."

Roy suddenly broke into a cold sweat. The only ones that knew the "extent" of the incident were his men, Dr. Knox, and Edward. Trying desperately to cover his emotions, he growled, "Is it really necessary at this time? They are in no condition to be answering questions."

For the first time during their conversation, Wilson turned his gaze toward the General, his eyes hinting at his surprise. "Of course it is, General. The sooner we get their statements, the sooner we can track down their 'master' and make him pay for making these atrocities."

"I told you, that lunatic is not my 'master,'" the chimera growled, still on his knees. "I am not-"

"Quiet, monster," the Lieutenant Colonel replied coldly as he focused his attention once more on the bearded man, frowning in disgust. "You are not to speak unless spoken to." He nodded toward the two men that restrained the man's arms behind his back, signaling for them to lift him.

The two men dragged him to his feet and held him there, his green eyes blazing with anger.

"You may leave now, General," Wilson stated as he glanced at Roy from the corner of his eye. "We'll take it from here."

Dwelling for a few moments, the Flame Alchemist noted the waiting prison vehicle and the armed guards that stood by it. "Alright," he finally replied, ignoring the glare of a pair of green eyes, "But tell General Thomas that I would like to speak to this man at the earliest convenience."

"We'll see…" the Lieutenant Colonel replied tauntingly.

Turning slightly toward Edward, Roy nodded and muttered, "Let's go."

The former alchemist nodded in return and began following the General back to their vehicle. However, after taking a few steps past the crowd, they heard a loud _crack_ resonate through the cold, still air.

Turning toward the source of the noise, Roy gaped in disbelief at what he saw.

The green-eyed man was now slouched forward and on his knees. A few moments after the sound ceased, he crumpled into a heap at the Lieutenant Colonel's feet. Dead.

In the Lieutenant Colonel's hand was the still smoking gun, fresh from firing the single shot.

Immediately Roy was in the military officer's face. "What the hell happened," he seethed as he narrowed his midnight eyes.

Wilson raised his hands defensively, trying, but failing, at hiding the smirk that spread across his thinned lips. "He resisted, so I had to take… personal measures."

"What," Roy snarled. "I didn't even see him _flinch_."

"Well, you _did _turn away. Besides, Council's orders," the man replied innocently. "'If any of them are to resist or pose an immediate threat, you may take personal measures in order to protect your safety and the safety of those around you,'" he rattled off, as if reading from a document.

"Council's orders," Roy echoed back in disbelief. That was impossible. He was _on _that council; the assembly devised by Grumman that would eventually become Parliament.

"From what I heard," the Lieutenant Colonel heckled, "The Council thought it best to remove you from the vote this time around. You know, too emotionally invested," he commented, referring to the General's team.

"From my understanding, anything that can lead us to their creator is to be kept alive until all information is extracted. And if there is no valuable information and they're being defiant," he shrugged, "We are to dispatch them immediately. As far as I'm concerned, that's an order to eliminate every last one of those monsters." Seeing the General's expression of disbelief, he went on, fully believing in and justifying his actions. "It must be done in order to protect our own. And if you were wise, you too would consider that order, lest you endanger your men again," a curt smile spread across his narrow face as he flicked the safety on his gun and holstered it.

"You bastard," Edward pushed past Roy and stood to face the man, anger radiating off his body. Fists clenched tightly at his sides, he growled, "The only monster here is _you_."

Unfazed by the young man's verbal assault, he Lieutenant Colonel shrugged, "I'm just doing what General Thomas and the Council ordered me to."

Edward was about to fire back when Roy put a hand on his shoulder. "Edward… We need to go," he muttered as a feeling of uneasiness washed over him.

Edward turned back toward Wilson and snarled, "But-"

"Now," Roy snapped, cutting the young man off.

With one final huff, the former alchemist reluctantly turned away, briskly following a nearly sprinting Mustang.

Once they made it into the car, Roy turned the key, the engine roaring to life. As he skidded away from the scene and sped off, Edward turned to him and glared. "What the hell was that about?"

"The Council is the prototype for the future Parliament. Along with the Fuhrer, they too have some say in military affairs."

"Where the hell is the Fuhrer in all of this," Edward clamored.

Roy was hit with a sudden realization. He had completely forgotten that the Fuhrer was doing one final tour of neighboring countries in order to strengthen their shaky, yet standing, peace treaties. "Out of the picture," he murmured in defeat. "Right now, it looks like the Council has the final say… And I no longer have any power."

* * *

><p>Roy and Edward burst through the hospital doors, making a beeline toward Riza's room.<p>

With twisted, radicalized orders from the Council, General Thomas would have no problem justifying dispatching another 'monster'; military status or not. He knew the man was extreme in his views, but it was a completely new notion to him that the man and his subordinates would be alright with killing for the sake of killing.

The two men froze when a Breda emerged from Riza's room, the color completely drained from his face.

"What's wrong," Mustang demanded, a feeling of dread flooding his gut.

"I-I was only gone for two minutes," Breda stammered as he looked down at his hands, "And-"

Roy pushed past the bumbling man and stopped dead in his tracks upon entering the room.

The bed was empty. The room was empty.

Riza was gone.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **_This is the result of me procrastinating from studying for Animal Science and writing _Pressure Point _(because I have about five different ways I want to approach the next chapter, so I'm mapping it out: To those that read it, the chapter title will be "I See You."). But, I feel like I did well on my two exams today, so I decided to write to reward myself (Plus, getting my final rabies vaccine today and avoiding thinking about it at all costs...)_

_Anyways, I hope I implied enough about the workings of the Philosopher's Stone. If I did not, here is a (hopefully) clearer description of what I meant:_

_*According to a few sources, the Philosopher's Stone does not allow you to defy the Laws of Equivalent Exchange; it merely amplifies your power. And since making a human-chimera hybrid is a form of Human Transmutation, something will still be lost. So, humanity was not enough to be lost in this Transmutation. The price of the "doctor's" hubris also included the removal and/or replacement of various parts… only he didn't suffer from the Transmutation because of his use of the Stone._

_Due to the Law of Conservation of Mass, if you were to have two objects, each at 1kg each, if combined, the resulting product will be 2kg (as long as no mass was converted into energy during the process). It can be a lot more complicated than this, so we'll leave it at that. Pretty much, Riza gained little or no mass, so the question is, where did the remaining mass from the system go?_

_So now, one of two things could have happened: 1) The matter that was "lost" could have been consumed in the reaction, converting it to energy. Or 2) Anything that was lost is stuck at the Gate. If they were to try and simply separate Riza and the wolf, they could end up with her having no heart, etc. because it may not be hers (and thus may be lost/at the Gate)._

_If you are still lost, feel free to PM me and I will try to clear things up._

_Finally, I'm not trying to make this a cliche "witch hunt" story, although Lt. Colonel Wilson and Gen. Thomas will be important at some point (though they are not main characters by any means). Rather, I am trying a different approach._

_So, hope you all enjoy the story thus far! _

_**And starting now, I strongly encourage anyone that has constructive criticism/comments on likes or dislikes, etc. to let me know either by PM or by review. Is there anything that you like/ don't like about the story so far (for example, do you like/dislike the cliffhangers or is the characterization spot on or not?)? Is there anything that you want to see? I now have an ending in mind, but there are a few ways to approach it…Since the story is a new concept for me to write, I want to make sure that I am writing a quality story that people enjoy. :) **_

_With that, thank you to all that have favorited, reviewed, and followed so far!_


	6. Abominations

Riza threw one last, quick glance over her shoulder as she hurriedly made her way down the steps of the military hospital. Wrapping her arms around herself, she hugged the General's jacket closer to her body, hoping to block out the cool, icy wind that had picked up. And yet, regardless of how warm she tried to keep herself, she still continued to shiver.

It wasn't long after the General and Edward had left that she began to feel uncomfortably claustrophobic in that small, windowless hospital room. Eventually those feelings of confinement had overrun and surpassed the feelings of pain she felt in her joints and body; to the point where she needed to just _go_.

She had waited until she heard Breda, whom was stationed outside of her hospital room, leave. Grabbing the General's black trench jacket he had inattentively left behind, she had thrown it over her shoulders and quietly slipped out and closed the door behind her, and made her way down the hall.

It was by pure chance that she had passed an empty nurse's station with a lost and found box. Without even slowing down, she dug her hand into the box and grabbed the first hat she found: a black, unassuming messenger boy's cap. After seizing it and glancing around to be sure that no one was around, Riza tore the surgeon's cap from her head and replaced it with the newfound cap. She'd replace it with a more appropriate covering once she reached her ultimate destination.

But now that she was well-covered, she briskly made her way toward the one place she could really think: Central Headquarters.

She promised herself that she would be gone for only an hour. It took only twenty minutes to get to that… place, so at the very least, the General and Edward would be gone for at least that amount of time; especially if they were going to be looking around.

Just for an hour…

That was all the time she needed to clear her head. To be at a place where she was always herself; doing something that was hers and hers alone.

She'd deal with the General's inevitable chiding later… that is, if Breda even realized she was gone.

As she turned a corner onto the main street that led to Central HQ, Riza was surprised to find a mass of people walking in both directions along the sidewalk she was on. Taking a few quick measures to ensure that her jacket and hat were secure, she advanced, navigating her way through the crowds of people. Apparently it was a busy night in Central. For what, though, she was unsure.

As she continued to make her way through the mass of people, and after muttering a few apologies to people she had accidentally jostled in her haste, she began to notice more and more just how loud they all seemed to become. Once she had made that realization, it seemed as if the sounds intensified exponentially. Those that were whispering seemed as if they were talking, and those that were talking normally sounded as though they were screaming.

The cacophony was only part of the overall barrage of stimuli, however.

Another gust of wind whipped past Riza, threatening to pull the cap from her head. Reaching up quickly and forcing it back down, she tried to keep her composure as a wave of scents pummeled her senses; some sweet, others rancid, and some completely unfamiliar. Sucking in a deep breath, she trudged forward, seeing the end of the large crowd just a few hundred feet in front of her. But unfortunately, also seeing every fine detail of every person before that point.

As if seeing them for the first time, her eyes darted from one person to another, then over to another. Every movement, whether it be a loose strand of hair flapping wildly in the relentless gusts or a hand raised animatedly during conversation, was perceived by her.

The over-stimulation was nauseating. She took a deep breath as she stumbled out of the crowd, eyes watering from the sensory overload. To her right she caught a glimpse of an alleyway. Stumbling into it, she made her way far enough into it to lean heavily against the side of the building. After a few moments, she slowly sank to the ground, pulling her knees to her chest as she rested her back against the brick wall.

Any numbing effect from the cold, harsh wind had long passed; the pain in her joints and body having returned all at once. Squeezing her eyes shut and gritting her teeth, she leaned her head back and rested it against the wall, trying desperately to alleviate it… or to at least stop the overflow of stimulants.

After sitting for a few moments and trying desperately to keep her composure, a noise brought her out of it; ringing loudly in her ears. Slowly opening her eyes upon realizing that the thundering noise was the sound of footsteps on gravel, she wearily turned her head toward its source.

A small, wrinkled gentleman stood a few feet away, his concerned eyes watching her intently. "Miss," he spoke softly, his voice just above a whisper, "Are you alright?"

She watched him for a few moments, unwavering in her gaze. Even in the dimly lit alleyway, she could make out his slightly dilated pupils. Hear the detectable increase in his heart rate. See his brow creased in concern. A heartbeat later, she nodded slightly and shot him a small, weary smile. "I'm fine," she murmured reassuringly, hoping he would take the hint and leave.

The old man took another step forward, his eyes scanning down her and to her feet.

Her eyes followed his downward until she too was looking at her own feet. She had nearly forgotten that she had forgone trying to keep her boots on her feet. Because after she had stood up from the hospital bed, she realized that the muscles in her feet refused to relax to the point where she couldn't touch her heels to the ground. Discovering that walking on the balls of her feet was her only option, she had decided to abandon the notion of shoes entirely.

"Your feet must be freezing," he exclaimed quietly, his eyes never wandering from her bare feet. He went to take another step forward, but was stopped when she spoke again.

Eyes still cast downward and voice lowered in warning, Riza growled, "I'm fine."

He froze, either taken aback by her uncooperativeness... Or in realization that something wasn't quite right. She could see in her peripheral vision that he was struggling within himself, trying to decide if he should obey her wishes to leave her alone or not. Finally, he took a slow step back, then another and another, until he was finally at the mouth of the alleyway. When he paused once again, she raised her eyes to meet his, her expression hardened.

That was the final nail in the coffin. Realizing that she indeed did not want his assistance, he slowly turned away and hobbled around the corner, disappearing into the continual crowd that was milling by.

Closing her eyes and resting her forehead on her knees, she sighed heavily; hoping, praying that this was just one long nightmare.

* * *

><p>After finally making her way to Central Headquarters, Riza slipped in through one of the back entrances, hoping to avoid seeing too many people. Luckily, it seemed that most of the officers were out or in other parts of the building, because her interactions between herself and anyone else were few and far between.<p>

Finding the women's locker room that housed her locker, she discarded her hospital attire and cap, redressing herself quickly but carefully with her spare uniform and rarely used officer's hat. Shrugging the General's jacket back over her shoulders and awkwardly slipping on her extra pair of boots, she departed hastily, lest she encounter someone she knew.

Navigating through the halls of the command center, she soon found herself outside the double doors that led to the shared office space she and the men shared. Pushing the door open just a crack, she slid inside and closed it with a small _click _behind her. Leaning into it, she glanced up at the room before her, a sense of calm washing over her. Despite the lights being shut off, she could clearly see their desks scattered about the room, bathed in the faint glow of the moonlight that radiated through the office's large windows.

Not wanting to sit and dwell for too long, however, she swiftly made her way over to the doors that led to the General's office. Pushing them open, she quietly padded around his desk and sunk onto the bench that hugged the bay window it sat in front of, basking herself in the soft light that flooded the room. Training her gaze on the courtyard below, she sighed deeply. This was home.

Riza let her eyes wander around the courtyard, silently noting whether or not there were any changes in structure, placement of objects, or anything else that could be "suspicious."

After the official announcement was made regarding the passing of the Fuhrer's torch to Roy, Riza had quickly jumped into action, already formulating a plan regarding the safety measures they would implement for the big event. Riza had always been a planner, even though the inauguration wasn't for a year after the announcement. With a man like Roy Mustang, it was good to begin planning well in advance. Most of the planning included finding and disabling any place that could be used as a vantage point for someone that may want to do the General harm.

This area provided her with the best view, allowing her to see nearly every weak spot. She had frequented that one spot so often that Havoc playfully referred to it as the "Hawk's Perch." Upon first hearing the name he had given to it, Riza had rolled her eyes. But she didn't correct him, so the name stuck. So when the General would be looking for her after hours, he'd always check the "perch" first.

She had been so absorbed in scanning the ground below, Riza almost didn't hear the sound of the office's door creaking open. Eyes widened and heart racing, she jerked her head upward.

Standing in the doorway, leaning heavily into his curved wooden cane, was General Thomas. Noticing her eyes on him, he smiled broadly through his salt and pepper beard, matching her stare with his own.

The hairs on her neck stood on end. Despite the inviting grin he had on his face, his eyes were calculating and cold.

She was never fond of him before, merely tolerating his presence when he was around. The man was an expert at making small, subtle jabs at the choice of Roy taking over as the next Fuhrer. The General sometimes didn't catch it, but she always did. She knew that he would cause problems for them once Roy took his rightful position as the leader of their nation.

But now, with her senses in this state of flux, she could see and deduce so much more about him. This man was so much more than he readily projected to the world: this man was very, very dangerous.

"Fancy seeing you here, Captain," the grey-haired General finally spoke, his deep voice ringing in her ears. "It's funny... I was just on my way to the hospital to speak with you and a couple of other men. Looks like I'll have one less interview to conduct there."

He hobbled around the desk and pulled Roy's chair out from behind it, settling into it as if he owned it. The over-confident air about him greatly irked her, though she hid her disgust well behind her blank mask.

Leaning forward,he rested his elbows on his knees and clasped his hands together. "You look like you're doing well," he continued, making his words more of a question rather than a statement. Scanning her up and down, his eyes stopped on her head, zeroing in on her uncharacteristic hat.

"Mild head concussion," she murmured in response to his stare. "It keeps the cold pack in place," she added, referencing the hat.

Seeming to take the excuse as fact, he nodded. "Well, I won't take too long then, Captain. Just a few questions about what you saw." He wasn't giving her the option of backing out.

"There was nothing to see," she responded apologetically, with a small dash of false regret. "All I remember is being taken… the rest of the details are fuzzy."

The older General furrowed his brow at her recounting, frowning as he did so. After a few moments of contemplation, he sighed and leaned his cane against Roy's chair. He slowly stood and turned toward the bay window, clasping his hands behind his back.

Riza tensed, sensing a sudden and drastic change in his demeanor. His over-confidence began to shift and change into something uglier and more twisted. Something deep down inside of her screamed for her to run, but even if it were appropriate she could not; she was frozen there, unable to tear her eyes from him. That deep-set instinct inside of her howled at her over and over again, telling her that this emotion… this "aura" about him was pure, unadulterated rage. It screamed over and over again of danger.

And yet, his face barely changed. Aside from a wicked glint in his eye, the graying, wrinkled man made no other indication that would lead her to deduce what he was truly feeling. This man was a monster.

Staring through the window in front of him, the man spoke, "I'm confident that the General told you about what had transpired." He didn't allow her to answer, simply continuing as if she had agreed with him. "Then," he continued coldly, "you know what must be done."

Pushing back her escalating feelings of uneasiness, Riza slowly shook her head. "Sir, I'm afraid I don't understand what that means."

He turned his narrowed, piercing black eyes toward her, sending shivers up her spine. "Simple, Captain. An extermination campaign."

"What?" She tried desperately to hide her disbelief and horror. "Sir, that's… that's murder."

For a brief moment, he too shared her disbelief. However, he quickly concealed it behind a dark chuckle. "Murder, Captain? Hardly that... It's simply elimination, eradication, euthanasia, or whatever the hell you want to call it. It's ridding the world of abominations that were never meant to be; the unholy offspring of a twisted and demented taboo." Turning back toward the window, he continued, his voice laced with hatred. "Those beasts killed six of my finest men and then some. And from what my men could tell from that grisly scene, they created another abomination," he spat venomously.

"They've declared war on us, Captain, and I have reports that they've infiltrated Central Command; the Council has already given the order. And if you were wise, and I know that you are, you _will_ convince General Mustang to follow my lead. The second something like this gets out to the public, there will be chaos; because, who knows how long it will be before they start killing civilians, killing _children_…if they haven't already done so." Turning his darkened gaze toward her once more, his lips curled upward into a nasty grin. "This is a war I intend to win."

Too shocked to speak, Riza could only stare at the man. He truly believed what he was saying. To him, this was now gospel, and there would be no way to change this man's mind.

That voice in the back of her mind was screaming louder now, blocking out almost every rational thought in her mind. She just wanted to run, to get as far away from him as possible. She knew that if he suspected anything, he would not hesitate to kill her… right there and now. And what would that make the General? An accomplice? A traitor? Thomas would surely twist it in order to make it appear that way.

She was trapped, the restlessness she felt earlier returning with a vengeance.

She needed to go.

Go.

_Go!_

General Thomas was now standing at her side, clamping his massive, aged hand on her shoulder, pulling her from her internal struggle. Without looking down at her, he spoke, his voice low, "Remember what I said, Captain. This is war. And if your General does not comply, I will see to it that he never makes it to his seat at the top. _That _much I can guarantee." And with that, he released his iron grip, grabbed his cane and strode out of the office, leaving a speechless and petrified Captain in his wake.

* * *

><p>Riza had waited until she was sure he was gone before finally allowing herself to breathe again. Sucking in a deep, shaky breath, she tried desperately to calm the storm that was raging inside of her. If whatever was happening to her didn't kill her… then they surely would. The military that she had devoted her life to would cast her aside without a second thought, because now they believed that active military personnel were involved.<p>

And the General… They would cast him aside too. Maybe even kill him. Brand him a traitor, a conspirator. He'd be ruined…

Her heart would not stop its rapid beating, the pulses pounding in her ears. She felt a dread-induced sickness inside of her, threatening to make its presence known at any moment.

She needed to go. But she couldn't go back to the hospital. No. They'd find her there.

But she needed to find the General. That would be the first place he would go.

Despite not having a clear destination in mind, she knew that she needed to leave.

She was up now, her hand on the doorknob of the outer office's door. Taking another, panicked breath, she quickly pushed it open and hurried into the hall. However, she did not make it far.

Suddenly, a hand reached out and firmly grabbed her arm, snapping her back to reality. Letting out a yelp of surprise, she twisted around in confusion and jerked her arm out of the rigid grip, only to be met with the unrelenting, hardened stare of a familiar set of onyx eyes.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **_And so concludes Chapter 6. It appears that General Thomas has some sort of vendetta going. Also, now some tensions are going to rise and there will be some conflict._

_And if it seemed as if Riza was OOC in any way (ex. Leaving even though she was most likely ordered not too), it was fully intended and you'll see why later…_

_Quick fun fact: The way Riza was walking is called "digitgrade," meaning that she was walking on her toes (sort of: balls of feet). Cats and dogs walk this way. Humans and bears, for example, walk plantigrade, while horses and cows walk unguligrade._

_Anyways, I'm hoping to have the next chapter sometime next week (since no exams then… for once!). So I will finally be able to breathe…_

_Really briefly, it is to be titled "The Union Alchemist," while the one after that will be titled "Useless." I'm hoping to inject a tiny bit of humor into that one._

_I made a note in _Pressure Point_, so I will add one here. I will start updating my profile with the status of chapters/stories as they are being written in order to give readers an idea of when new chapters may be out._

_Finally, thank you to all that have favorited, followed, and reviewed _Humanity _so far. It has nearly hit 40 followers! I really do appreciate it. Like I've said before, if you have any constructive criticism or just find something you like so far, or want to even see something you think might fit, don't hesitate to review or PM me!_

_P.S. Did anyone catch my small nod to _How to Train Your Dragon_? Sorry, couldn't help it. It just fit perfectly._


	7. The Union Alchemist

Roy sat rigidly, moving only when the train rattled over a rough patch as it sped along the tracks beneath him. Staring down at his interlaced hands, he could still see Riza out of the corner of his eye, also sitting immovably, and staring vacantly out the window she was leaning against.

He had never experienced this long a gap betwixt conversations between the two them. And if there was that rare rift in their chatting, the silence that would stretch on was never awkward. But now, as the reticence between them lengthened, Roy found himself becoming more and more uncomfortable.

It wasn't because he was uncomfortable with her; he could never be.

Rather, he was upset and frustrated with himself.

It seemed that no matter what, everything he said and did came out wrong. Because there was no way, at least that he could see, to comfort someone when something like _this _happened. Honestly, what could you say?

He had already reassured her multiple times that they _were_ going to fix this, one way or another, no matter what. By maybe his fifth or sixth assurance, she seemed to have grown tired of his rhetoric, exuding an air of irritation while hiding behind a pained visage. And it was at that point he realized he was no longer trying to comfort her, because she had heard him the first time; instead, he was trying to console himself.

He was terrified… God, he was terrified.

And maybe that's the reason he reacted the way he did.

When they had gotten to the hospital and found her room empty, they feared the worst. After witnessing what he did back at that warehouse, he expected nothing less than cold-blooded murder from General Thomas and his men. But even as he frantically walked the halls, looking for a flash of blonde hair with Breda and Edward in tow, something in the back of his mind screamed for him to go to Headquarters.

Now, he was thankful he listened to that small voice inside his head.

Because once they made it to Central HQ, Roy instinctively made a beeline toward his office; the one place he could always count on finding her when she wasn't home.

And sure enough, as he approached the door that led into his office, he saw it open, a blonde woman sporting an officer's cap hastily making her way out and in the opposite direction from him. He honestly didn't know why he reacted the way he did; fear, perhaps?

She hadn't noticed him. When he was close enough, he reached out and tightly seized Riza's arm, eliciting a sharp yelp from her.

Reacting to the sudden "attack," she had whirled around, her lips drawn back and teeth…fangs… bared, her eyes narrowed threateningly.

Out of surprise, or maybe a deep-seated, primitive fear response, Roy felt his eyes harden and narrow.

A heartbeat later, however, her face softened, eyes widening in recognition, and then alarm-

* * *

><p>The train suddenly hit a rough patch, jostling Roy and pulling him from his thoughts. He sighed heavily and ran his fingers down his face, silently hoping he could wipe the exhaustion away.<p>

They had left for the station as soon as they had found Riza, so there was no time to rest. But then again, after what had transpired in the past 36 hours, Roy doubted he would ever be able to sleep.

Out of the corner of his eye, Roy saw Riza's cap slipping from her head, she herself completely oblivious to the fact. In an instant, his hands were on it, thrusting back onto her head in an effort to make it stay. This action snapped her out of her daze, causing her to turn and shoot him an appreciative look.

"Thank you, sir," she murmured softly as she reached up and readjusted it to her own liking. After doing so, however, she leaned back once more against the window, seemingly content with no further interaction.

A tight knot began to form in Roy's chest at the thought of the nervous air that would soon wedge itself between them again. No… He couldn't have that. He didn't want her to shut him out…

"Ah…" He began, surprising himself with the uncertainty in his voice. "How are you feeling?"

Still turned toward the window, Riza cast him a sideways glance, saffron eyes peering wearily toward him. "I'm fine, sir."

He knew she was lying. He could see it in her eyes; in the way she was sitting, her entire body stiffened in order to minimize contact with the walls of the train as it rattled down the tracks. And knowing her, he knew that he would not any information out of her unless she offered it of her own free will.

After a few moments of extended silence, he heard a small groan coming from her direction.

Her eyes darted downward to look at her stomach, narrowing when the same sound made its presence known again. Drawing her right arm across her abdomen, she held it tightly against herself, shifting uncomfortably.

Chuckling lightly, Roy reached into his jacket pocket and fished out a small bag of nuts he had left over from a few days prior. "Here, try these," he said as he offered them to her.

"Sir, I'm fine, really," she responded as she shook her head.

Frowning slightly, Roy refused to back down. "It's been a while since you've eaten. Please, at least hold onto them." The very last thing they needed was for her to stop eating…

Most likely realizing that he would not give up, she took the baggie and set it on her lap. "Thank you, sir," Riza replied, flashing him a fabricated smile.

The sudden sound of the train compartment door behind them opening caused the two officers to jump and turn around to face it. Standing in the doorway was Edward, his hardened eyes focused on Roy.

"Hey, could you help me out? I'm having trouble with the phone line," the young man stated bluntly.

"Did you ask one of the employees that actually _works _on the train," Roy asked with annoyance.

"What do you think? Of course I tried. Except I can't find anyone," was the brash reply.

Confused as to why the young man couldn't figure out a simple line, Roy reminded in his seat, eyeing the blond suspiciously.

Edward rolled his eyes and scoffed. "Are you going to help me or not," he asked, his tone of voice resonating with animosity.

Roy's thoughts immediately went to the look of disapproval and distrust Edward had projected when he told the young blond about the alchemist he was secretly surveying. Despite the fact the two had worked on similar cases together, Roy still kept a few leads from his "sources" a secret from the young man, in case any of their unorthodox studies proved useful in the future. After all, some of the greatest advancements in alchemy came from the confines of an alchemist's home…

"Fine," Roy snapped back. Turning back to Riza he promised to her that he'd be right back.

She nodded in response before turning back to and leaning against the window.

Following Edward out of the compartment, he closed the door behind him. After moving through a few additional sections of the train, the young man abruptly stopped in an empty one.

Nearly running into the youth, Roy scowled.

Whirling around, Edward faced the General, his eyes slightly narrowed. "Want to tell me what the hell you're doing," he shot accusingly at Roy.

Thrown off by the young man's change in demeanor, Roy was immediately defensive, "What are you talking about?"

"I've been watching you for the past ten minutes and-"

"You've been _watching_ me? Did you even bother to call Alphonse," Roy interrupted harshly.

"Of course I did, you idiot. According to Ling, he and May are already on the road east to Nippon," the blond fired back. "Now answer me."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Roy growled in reply.

"Geez," Edward rolled his eyes at the Flame Alchemist. "I'm talking about your uneasiness. Even I can sense it; it's practically tangible," he held out his hands, pretending he was holding something in them.

"Your point being," Roy crossed his arms and glared at the former alchemist.

"If I can tell, then imagine what Hawkeye senses. Did you even take _that _into consideration? It's no wonder she's shutting you out."

Roy felt his eyes soften, "What-"

"Dogs are great at sensing emotions, and wolves are not different; they're practically the same. So while you're over here fretting and worrying, she's picking up on that _and _dealing with her own feelings," he explained, a pang of anger in his words. "You need to calm the hell down."

For once, he admitted to himself, Edward was right. He was so right...

"I-"

Edward cut him off again, "And then to take her to be poked and prodded by another 'doctor'; and one in the middle of nowhere to boot. You're really piling on the stressors, aren't you?"

Shocked by the young man's brutality and concern, Roy found himself speechless. He was right. He was right. He was right. "I," he began slowly, anticipating being cut off again, "I didn't think of that."

"No, you didn't," Edward responded. "But that's why I'm here."

Roy slowly sank into the nearest seat he could find and held his head in his hands, sighing heavily.

Edward crouched down in front of the defeated man and watched him intently. After a few moments of silence, he murmured, "Look… I know you're upset, angry, frustrated… But you're gonna have to be the stronger one this time."

Roy lifted his head and was about to respond, when the train's announcement system chimed on. _"Two minutes until arrival in Arcadia."_

Edward stood up and offered Roy his hand. "C'mon… The sooner we get this trip over with, the sooner we can fix things."

Roy looked up and slowly reached out, grasping the young man's hand. Allowing himself to be helped up, he nodded toward Edward, signaling his determined readiness.

With that, the two made their way back through the train in order to collect Riza and begin what would hopefully be the last leg of this horrendous nightmare.

* * *

><p>After what seemed like an eternity, the trio finally reached their destination at the outskirts of the desolate town of Arcadia: a vastly overgrown patch of forest that may, or may not, contain the home of the alleged "Union Alchemist" somewhere in the massive array of tangled trees and weeds.<p>

Pushing his way through the snarled mess, Roy managed to find a worn, chipped white door amongst the branches. He pounded his fist against it and stood back, ears straining to hear any noise from within. After a few moments, there was nothing.

His brows furrowed in confusion. His "sources" indicated that the man was last spotted in this area around two weeks ago. He had been positive that the man was unaware of any surveillance; but then again, he had assumed that before, and look at what had happened as a result…

He was about to turn away when Riza shook her head and muttered, "There's someone in there…"

Roy was about to respond when the door slowly creaked open. Through the crack, they could see a narrowed, green eye watching them suspiciously. Suddenly, a low, crackly voice erupted from behind the door, warning them. "Leave…now," it hissed as the eye trained up to glare at Roy.

Without hesitation, Roy pushed the door open, forcing back the wary occupant. "Are you the Union Alchemist," he asked nonchalantly as he shoved his hands in his pockets, completely disregarding the previous warning directed toward him. As he heard Riza and Edward enter behind him, he turned his glare toward the doddering old man that stood before them.

"Answer," he commanded more forcibly.

Brilliant green eyes still narrowed at the trio, the man reluctantly replied, "That's what they call me…" Moving his gaze between Riza and Roy and taking note of their uniforms, he spat, "What do you military dogs want?"

Raising one hand defensively, Roy calmly replied, "We're not here for military matters; however, if you want to get the military involved, that can certainly be arranged." Seeing the slight shine of fear in the man's eyes, he continued, "We're here for more… personal matters. And if you choose to help us, I will _personally _guarantee that you will not face jail time for your illegal experimentation."

"Who said anything about illegal-" The man was promptly cut off by a shrill screech that originated from one of the rooms behind him. With a panicked jump, he disappeared behind around the corner, the shriek stopping moments after he vanished. When he reappeared, he nervously rubbed his hands together and murmured, "Now… Who were you again? And how can you guarantee my immunity?"

Ignoring the disgusted air emitted by the blond-haired young man behind him, Roy replied, "I'm General Mustang. I can assure you that-"

He was cut off as the wiry, white-haired man cackled gleefully. "Ah… The Flame Alchemist! To what do I, a lowly alchemist, owe the pleasure?"

Unfazed by the man's mocking gesture, the General continued, "I heard that you have successfully separated a chimera into its former reactants." He raised a brow quizzically, "Is this true?"

Green eyes widened, the old, wrinkled man grinned eagerly. "Yes… Yes I have. But why do _you _care? After all, it was you and he," he motioned toward Edward, "that banned the practice two years ago."

"Like I said," Roy responded as he invited Riza forward, gently pulling the cap off of her head when she stood next to him, "Personal matters."

The silvery ears that had been lying flat against her head slowly rose and twitched irritably in response to the change in air currents around them.

The old man's already large eyes widened further in surprise, then disbelief, and finally narrowed in disgust. "You performed the taboo," he snarled as he cast his glare toward Roy. "I will _not _be associated with the likes of-"

The man was unable to finish his sentence, having been grabbed by the front of his shirt and jerked forward, his face inches from a furious Roy Mustang's. Cold, desperate onyx eyes glared threateningly into frightened green ones. "You _will _do this, or so help me-"

Edward got between the two men and shoved the General away, causing him to lose his footing and stumble backwards. The young blond man then turned to the older one and offered his hand to him, throwing one last warning glance over his shoulder toward the superior officer.

Taking Edward's hand, the older man helped himself up to his feet and dusted himself off, casting a glare in the General's direction. "You know, I don't take kindly to bullies…" Ignoring the venomous stare he received from a pair of ebony eyes, he continued, "But I'll do it. Not for you, though," his eyes lingered over to Riza, whom had knelt down next to Roy, "No… For her."

"Thank you," Edward began, "We greatly-"

"Come on," the withered old man beckoned as he turned away from the trio, waving his hand in the air. "Don't want you to get lost now."

As Roy pushed himself upwards, Riza linked her arm around his and slowly helped him to his feet.

His eyes caught hers, catching the silent warning she shot him.

* * *

><p>The three of them followed the old man into his kitchen, slightly taken aback by what they saw. Unlike the unruly, book-filled mess that would be his living room, the man's kitchen was relatively spotless, adorned with a stainless steel table, chairs, and counters; with the remaining space available being filled with wooden white cabinets. Glancing up above him, Edward saw that the glass ceiling was nearly twenty feet above them, allowing for an abundance of natural light to trickle in between the roots and vines that zigzagged across it. Bringing himself back from his thoughts, Edward saw that they had all stopped.<p>

The man motioned for Edward and Roy to sit in a pair of chairs that were sitting diagonally from the table he had invited Riza to sit atop of. Edward watched as Riza slid herself onto it, sending an unsure glance in Mustang's direction. His eyes darting over to the General's, he managed to catch his response: a small, yet faltering smile of reassurance.

As Edward sank into the chair that was designated to him, the man began to speak. "So, tell me Miss…" He looked to her, eyebrows raised, hoping that she'd fill in the blanks.

"Riza," she responded back to his implied question.

"Riza… Okay, pretty name. You can call me James." Ignoring their wary expressions, he continued, "How long ago did this occur?" Leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees and his chin on his hands, he watched her curiously.

"Well, sir," she began.

"James," he quickly corrected her. "'Sir' was my father."

Narrowing her eyes in slight annoyance, she corrected herself, "Approximately thirty-six hours ago, _James_."

He nodded slowly, "And… Any signs of rejection?"

She furrowed her brows in confusion. "I don't think I understand-"

"Blood originating from the mouth, eyes, and ears," he cut in, "Multiple organ failure due to incomplete integration… Something along those lines."

Edward knitted his brows together. The man's tone seemed almost… indifferent. Out of the corner of his eye, he was Riza's ears pinned back against her head in a silent sign of dismay. To his left he could see Mustang in a similar state of shock at the man's nonchalant attitude. At that moment, he decided that he'd take the reins.

"None," Edward replied hardly as he eyed the man. "Some bleeding in the mouth, but found it to be originating from a wound on the tongue."

"Bitten through," he man asked knowingly.

"Yes."

"And other features…" he began, wanting the young blond to elaborate further.

"Prominent canines, approximately 1" in length," Edward shot back, "Ears, proportional; tail, proportional."

The old man raised his brows with piqued interest. "Mind if I-"

"No," Mustang interrupted him bluntly.

"Look, will all due respect," Edward continued slowly, "We didn't come here to play twenty questions. What we came for was to see if what you said is true. Can you _successively _separate the original reactants from the product of a transmutation of this caliber?"

"James" sighed and nodded his head. "I can show you… But you can't blame a man for his curiosity. Because after all," he said as a mischievous smile spread across his lips, "it's almost unheard of to use a human-base in a Chimera Transmutation…"

"Almost," Edward echoed back, narrowing his golden eyes in suspicion.

"Yes, _almost_," The old man leaned back in his chair, his arm hanging off the back of it in a careless manner. "Have you ever heard of the Sewing Life Alchemist, Shou Tucker?"

Upon hearing the man's name, Edward leapt up from his chair, knocking it to the ground. "Don't you _dare_ mention that monster," he snarled. "Do you know what he did?!"

Undaunted by the young man's sudden outburst, the Union Alchemist shrugged his shoulders. "No, I agree with you there, _Fullmetal_. I know what he did. He performed the ultimate taboo, and at the cost of his daughter's life nonetheless." Leaning slightly to see past Edward, fixing his eyes on a wary Riza, he continued, "From what I've heard, I just never expected it to turn out any better than that."

"Well," Edward replied as he stepped back into the man's field of vision, "There's a lot you don't know, then." Before the man could interject, Edward gave him an ultimatum, "If you show us now what you can do, then we'll tell you what we know." Extending his right hand toward the man, Edward watched him intently, "Deal?"

Before grasping the young man's hand, the old man offered a quick addition to the deal, "I'll promise, but only if the young lady stays behind while I show you."

Turning to eye the two officers behind him, Edward gained their silent approval. Focusing back on the old man, he nodded and grasped his hand and shook it. "Deal."

* * *

><p>Edward and Roy quickly followed the old man out the back entrance and into the overgrown yard, navigating through a maze of trees and roots that had grown in every direction. After a decent amount of persuasion, Edward reluctantly handed over a rough sketch of the transmutation he had transcribed. The bitter chuckle the older man responded with did nothing to comfort them.<p>

They stopped briefly when James backtracked and disappeared inside a shed, reemerging moments later holding a deranged, wild black cat away from his body by the scruff of its neck. Except, however, it was no ordinary black cat.

Its graying face was flatter than average, its nose bearing a slight semblance to a pig's. A pair of large, leathery wings hung limply at its side, suggesting that a bat was somehow involved in the mix.

Edward tried his best to hide his disgust, but he knew it was clearly painted across his face. It was a "science" he never understood. Alchemy itself was unnatural. But this… this… was wrong.

He was jolted from his thoughts when Mustang spoke, the same chilly tone in his voice as before. "Why is it acting that way," he asked, referring to the still-raging creature.

The doddering old man shrugged as he held the creature further away from himself. "Doesn't like being caged. You have to remember," he glanced over his shoulder at the General, "It's still a wild animal." Pausing briefly, he soon added, "Well, partially. I've got my dear, old barn cat mixed in there, though with the turmoil its mind is in, the damn thing barely remembers me."

Not even attempting to hide his repulsion towards the man, Mustang challenged, "And what else is in there?"

"Bat I found in the attic," James responded apathetically. "It was- ouch!" The old man yelped in pain as the chimera dug its sharp teeth into his hand, forcing him to let go of it."

As soon as its feet touched the ground, the chimera crouched low and let out a low growl, its narrowed, yellow eyes scanning the three men cautiously. However, when its eyes landed on Mustang, its feral growl developed into a reticent purr. Creeping over to a reluctant and uncertain General, the creature stretched up and placed its paws on his knee, sniffing his uniform with curiosity.

"Heh," the old alchemist chuckled passively, "It must smell her." Turning with relative disinterest, he continued onward toward the small, wooden building they had been progressing toward. "They tend to act favorably toward their own kind," he threw over his shoulder in addition.

At that comment, Edward found that he had to reach up and grip the General's shoulder tightly, preventing him from slipping on his gloves and burning the man on the spot.

* * *

><p>"Done," the old man muttered as he struggled to his feet, wiping his hands off on his tattered pants. Looking at the reverse transmutation circle he had drawn on the cobblestone flooring with pride, he glanced at Edward, grinning boastfully. "See anything wrong?"<p>

"No..." Edward responded with a tinge of awe. He had never approached the science from that perspective before... And he thought he had explored every angle. The circle was...flawless. Well, from what he could tell, anyways.

"Now, the reason I chose this particular chimera was because I used a circle similar to the one you showed me." Reaching into his coat pocket, James pulled out the crumpled up sketch Edward had given him before. Digging into his other pocket, he produced a second, neatly folded paper. Unfolding it, he held them out for Edward to compare.

He was right. The circles were eerily similar, save for a few changes; the largest difference being the symbol for the Philosopher's Stone.

Nodding toward the symbol, the man noted, "Largest difference is that rune there. I have to ask, boy, what does it mean?"

Edward was taken aback by the man's sudden show of ignorance. Had he honestly never researched or paid heed to the legend of the Stone? Or was he testing him?

The man's eyes showed no signs of trickery, however; rather, they reflected a glint of curiosity.

However, the very last thing Edward wanted to do was alert him about the existence of such a powerful, horrific object. "I'm not sure," he lied in reply.

The old man watched the younger one for a few moments before shrugging it off. "Well, whatever it is, it completely skewed the results of the transmutation, since a considerable amount of matter was lost. That will be something _you_ need to figure out." Turning his attention toward the Flame Alchemist, whom had been standing off to the side, he said, "I'll be getting started now." He walked over to the General, peeling the chimera, which had been perched on his shoulder, affectionately rubbing its face against his, off his uniform.

Moving over to the circle, he placed the creature in the center. Drawing its legs in closely, it curled up into a ball; its widened, petrified yellow eyes watching them.

Before the small chimera could blink, the Union Alchemist slapped his hands on the ground, activating the circle. A bright light and a screech followed a heartbeat later, forcing Edward to shut his eyes to avoid burning his retinas. Moments later, there was silence.

Scuffing the edge of the circle of his toe, the old man slowly wandered onto it and toward the two small shapes that lay motionless in its center.

Glancing at the General, whom was unmoving, his arms crossed uncomfortably across his chest, Edward cautiously followed behind the old alchemist, stopping just before the middle of the circle.

Much to his amazement, there were indeed two small forms on the floor, one larger and the other much smaller. His feelings of wonderment quickly drained away, replacing themselves with pure, unadulterated horror.

Yes, there were two animals there, completely separated. However, the presence of blood around their mouths, ears, and eyes, and no signs of movement confirmed that they were very, very dead.

"I told you I could separate them..."

Edward snapped his head up to stare at the old man, his mouth hanging open, too stunned to speak.

"I told you I could separate them, but that doesn't mean it can be done with complete success," the man said with a shrug from beside Edward.

"Then why the hell did you show us this," Edward snarled accusingly.

"To prove a point," the old man stated with a devious gleam in his eye. "I've been working in this art for thirty years. Simply said," he turned to focus his glare on the General that had positioned himself at the edge of the circle, "The art of perfect separation is impossible."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **_Wow! So this is where all of the words from _Pressure Point _went… This was an extremely long chapter (sorry about that!). __*****If you're wondering how they suddenly went from HQ to the station, and what is/was going on in Central, know that it will all be explained next chapter, along with why Roy withheld information from Edward**__. _

_This chapter ended up being a bit... odder than previously planned. Although originally, I envisioned the Union Alchemist to be crazier (if that's possible). But then I tried toning him down to be more "doddering and grandfatherly"; that obviously didn't happen though, since his character still insisted on being crazy. But don't worry, this is about as strange as it will get (and that will be the last majorish OC in this story; getting back to canon characters, especially Mustang's crew, after this). *Do keep in mind what he has said/implied though, since it will be important later on..._

_Anyways, the whole story isn't going to be "can't be done, can't be done, etc.". I added these characters to show varying levels of competency. So you have Roy that has absolutely no idea what is going on and Edward that knows a great amount, but doesn't have the experience. Then you have the two "experts," one of which apparently isn't as competent as he believes (Beller)._

_Fun fact of the day: There is about a 1% difference in the genomes (genetics) of dogs and wolves, whereas there is a 15% difference between dogs and people..._

_Thank you to all that have reviewed, followed, and favorited _Humanity _thus far. I'm flattered, seeing as this story is more of an unconventional gamble! Special thanks to __**Ice Maiden Olivier **__and __**Sweet Genocide**__ for their support for nearly every chapter as well. Along with _Pressure Point, _I am going to try and personally respond to every review/criticism in order to thank readers/better the story from now on._

_Next time, expect Royai. _


	8. Useless

"Well that was a fucking waste of time," Edward grumbled angrily as he thrust his hands into his coat pockets, trying to keep himself upright as they trudged through the thick forest of weeds that led back to the alchemist's house Turning his hardened gaze toward Mustang, he mockingly asked, "Any other secrets you'd like to share with me?"

Looking up from the ground, Roy turned his glassy-eyed stare toward the disgruntled former alchemist. The young man was beyond livid. In all honesty, Roy shouldn't have kept his sources hidden from Edward. But the temptation of having unobstructed and uninterrupted resources, whether the surveyed alchemists were aware of his surveying presence or not, was far too great. To answer Edward's question, no; he didn't have any other hidden resources, at least none in the field of chimerical alchemy. Saying nothing, Roy slowly shook his head.

Edward drew his lips back and narrowed his eyes, making his resentment of the General's actions even more painstakingly obvious. "If I find that you're lying to me, and I _will _find out, you can count me out of any of your future plans." Turning his coldhearted gaze forward and ignoring Roy's shocked expression, he continued, "I'll stick through with this for Hawkeye's sake, because right now I'm sure as hell not doing it for you. If this is how your time as Fuhrer is going to be, then your reign will be short-lived, and the end will not be pleasant." Fixing his gaze once more on Roy, he darkly added, "All secrets have a cost."

Roy was about to respond when he realized that they were at the back door of the old, battered house. Pushing the screen door in, they quickly stepped inside. If they moved fast enough, they could avoid the old man entirely, as he was still crouched on the floor of the shed, mulling over his failure.

When they navigated their way to the kitchen, they found that Riza was still seated atop the stainless steel table, her head hung low. Hearing them walk in, she languidly raised her head and acknowledged them by raising her brows.

Having remembered his conversation with Edward on the train, Roy quickly hid fleeting frown, silently demanding his rising pulse to fall. Had she grown even paler in the short time they were gone, or was it simply the lighting?

"Ready to go," Edward asked lightly, breaking the silence that would have otherwise followed.

She nodded slowly and slid off the table. Upon having her feet touch the floor, however, she lost her footing and stumbled slightly. Roy was immediately at her side, helping her catch her balance. For the umpteenth time that day, he asked if she was okay.

She responded by jerking her arm from his grip and muttering a sharp, "I'm fine," before leading herself toward the home's front door.

As Roy prepared to follow after her, Edward stopped next to him and shot him a quizzical look that asked: _What was that?_

Roy knitted his brows together and answered with a quick head shake. _I don'__t know._

* * *

><p>Out of the corner of his eye, Roy saw Edward glance down at the watch on his wrist. "Train leaves at 6:30," he murmured toward no one in particular. "At the rate we're walking, we should be back in town by 5:45; plenty of time to board."<p>

Roy nodded lightly before turning his gaze back toward the road they were walking along. He secretly hoped that a car or cart would pass by and offer them a ride back into town, because as time went on, he realized that Riza was walking more slowly and cautiously, her eyes never leaving her feet. Every attempt at speaking with her resulted in a rather blunt reply, with her always returning to staring intently at the ground.

Then again, maybe their decelerated pace would cause them to miss the train back to Central. Because honestly, he had no idea what they were going to do once they returned.

Admit they'd hit a dead end? Hide her away until her dying day… or until the military finds her and executes her?

Roy pushed the latter thought away. He would _never _let that happen; he'd die first…

Feeling a slight and fleeting pressure on his left shoulder, Roy twisted his head around in time to see Riza straighten herself, her eyes remaining on her feet. It had been the third or fourth time she had stumbled into him…

"Are you sure you're feeling fine," he asked delicately. "We can stop for a few minutes if you'd-"

"I'm fine_, Colonel_," she replied sharply.

_Colonel? _A slip of the tongue, perhaps...? He and Edward both stopped walking.

After taking a few steps forward, she realized that her two companions had halted. As she turned to face them, her legs buckled and gave out beneath her.

In an instant, Roy had darted forward, catching her as she fell. "That's it," he said sternly, "You are _not _'fine.'"

Riza weakly protested, slurring out "I'm fine" over and over again.

Roy's mind immediately went to the crazed alchemist they had just parted ways with and the fact that the man had insisted she remain behind. "Did he give you anything," he quietly demanded, his silent alarm rising in him.

She lethargically shook her head and muttered a faint 'no.'

He panickedly looked up at Edward, whom was just as, if not more, confused. When their eyes met, despite the situation, they silently agreed: They would not turn back.

* * *

><p>"Alright," Edward said as he approached the distressed alchemist and his semi-conscious subordinate, "I got two rooms." Showing a small silver key to Roy, he added, "We should probably go in through the back. The last thing we need is to arouse suspicion."<p>

Roy nodded in agreement and looked down at the woman in his arms, whom had her head rested against his shoulder.

After hurriedly making it back into the small town of Arcadia, Roy and Edward had discovered that it was lacking a clinic, doctor, or any other medically competent individual. They had contemplated returning to Central via the train, but quickly nixed the idea given Riza's deteriorating condition; she was not prepared for travel. Instead, they opted to find a temporary place to regroup, in the hopes that they would be able to contact _someone_.

Following Edward through the back entrance of the motel, Roy tagged along behind as the three of them ascended the staircase.

Upon reaching the second level, Edward led Roy down the hallway and over to one of the rooms. After the younger man inserted the key and opened the door, Roy rushed in and sat Riza on the closer of the two beds, stripping her uniform jacket off in the process. Once he had gently guided her head down to the pillow, he immediately turned to Edward, whom was still standing in the doorway.

Thrusting his thumb over his shoulder, Edward stated, "I'll go get some water and more towels." Pointing to Riza's jacket, he added, "And I'll take that to the wash." Moments after Roy tossed it to him, the young man was already gone.

Turning his attention back to his ill comrade, Roy asked, "How are you feeling?"

Riza murmured an unintelligible reply in response.

Reaching out and resting his hand on her forehead, Roy realized that she was burning up, her face and brow drenched in sweat. He moved swiftly over to and into the washroom attached to their room, grabbed the first washcloth he could find, and proceeded to soak it in a stream of cool water. Moments later he reemerged and rushed over to her, placing the damp cloth on her forehead.

After she muttered what he would assume to be a faint "thank you," he reached over to the phone that was on the nightstand between the two beds and dialed. A few rings later, Dr. Knox's voicemail picked up. He wasn't home. Scowling to himself, Roy realized that he didn't know the hospital's number either. He seriously doubted the region's phonebook would have it either. As he hung up the phone in frustration, Edward stormed into the room, stopping on the other side of the bed.

"What the hell are these?" Edward held something up in the air for Roy to see.

Leaning forward slightly and squinting, Roy recognized the small, strange object: a nearly empty bag of bush nuts.

"It's a bag of nuts, Edward," Roy replied bluntly. "Nothing wildly exciting about them."

"I know what they are, dumbass," the blond man remarked rudely. "What _are_ they?"

"Bush nuts…" Roy began again, trying to determine the reason for the young man's unrelenting animosity toward the small snack bag.

Edward sneered at the man. "Well, there's our problem," he retorted bitterly as he tossed the bag on the bedside table, "Bush nuts are poisonous to dogs."

Roy felt all of the blood drain from his face. _Poisonous?! _He frantically looked down at Riza, whose breathing had become shallower and quicker, tremors ripping through her body in shorter intervals. Snapping his head back up in a panic, his widened eyes met Edward's. "What do we do," he choked out, the fear rising in his voice. "Is there an antidote? A cure? A-"

"I don't know," Edward cut him off anxiously. "I-I don't know!"

"How did you know they were toxic," Roy shot back, the volume in his voice rising.

"Because I gave them to Den once," Edward snapped back. "I don't know… Granny was the one to take care of everything!"

"Well what did she do?!"

"How the hell am I supposed to know," Edward exclaimed loudly. "I was five! All I remember was Granny called the vet and that's it!"

Roy stopped and immediately looked down at the trembling figure sprawled out on the bed before him. He couldn't believe he was about to do this… but there was no other option.

He was desperate.

* * *

><p>Roy pressed the phone receiver firmly to his ear as it continued to ring, his other hand massaging the bridge of his nose. God, this was stupid. He should just hang up now… Breathing in deeply, he began to exhale sharply when the line suddenly connected.<p>

"Hello, Dr. Hendrich's office. How may I help-"

"I think my… dog's dying," Roy blurted out in exasperation, stumbling over the word 'dog.' It felt dirty and vile rolling off his tongue. He needed to remember, though, that he was simply gathering possibly valuable information. _It__'__s just like going roleplaying while undercover_, he reminded himself.

"Sir," the soft voice of the receptionist reached out to him. "Tell me what happened."

"I gave her bush nuts," he babbled, feeling his composure slipping.

It suddenly dawned on him. He killed her.

It was his fault. Everything.

_He _sent her on that mission. _He _acted like a fool. _His _ignorance. _His_ stupidity!

His uselessness…

The woman's voice snapped him back to reality. "Okay, sir. Now what are the symptoms?"

"She can't walk, has been sick several times; I know she has a fever, tremors," he rapidly rattled off.

"That does sound like a bush nut toxicity, sir."

_Of course it does, _he reminded himself bitterly.

"Alright," the woman spoke again, "Now what is the size and breed of your dog?"

_Breed? Human, _he wanted to say, but the woman would probably think he was insane. "…Mixed," he finally decided on, hating himself internally. "57 kilograms," he added to answer her question about 'size.'

"And how much did she eat," the receptionist drawled out, suddenly seeming to lose interest in the case.

"I don't know," he growled. "A few handfuls?"

"Sounds like she has a sensitivity to them, sir," she finally said, the nonchalance in her voice making Roy want to snap.

"Well, what do I do?" He was beginning to lose patience with her, especially with her now less-than-concerned tone. Someone was _dying!_

"Keep her hydrated and resting," the receptionist replied. "Symptoms should resolve within twelve to twenty-four hours."

…That was it? She made it seem as if Riza was going to die! No… He realized it was himself that that exaggerated the situation in his mind. The woman was just doing her job…

"Thank you," he responded, now subdued, as he hung up the phone. Turning to head back to the room from the hall's payphone, he saw Edward leaning against the wall near the room's door.

Brows raised, the blond asked, "Well…?"

"They said that symptoms should resolve in twelve to twenty-four hours," Roy replied dejectedly.

"Well," Edward began slowly, "That's good. Now," he continued with more authority, "We need to figure out what to do next."

* * *

><p>Riza could hear the two men talking in a "hushed tone" outside the hotel room as clear as day. They were discussing what their options were. Both agreed that Central was a horrible idea at the moment. From what she heard, Edward had suggested Resembool as their next destination, in order to regroup.<p>

With the way she felt at that moment, she had no desire to go anywhere.

Closing her eyes and pulling the blanket up to her nose, she exhaled slowly as she continued to listen.

Then, the conversation suddenly changed. Or rather, their words did.

Roy and Edward were talking at the same volume, but their words had suddenly lost their meaning to her, blending and morphing together into a jumble of gibberish.

Riza frowned and strained to listen, trying to make sense of the sudden change in language. No… not language. Dialect? Tone?

However, almost as soon as the phenomenon happened, it stopped; their words becoming coherent and jointed once more.

Maybe it was the exhaustion? Or maybe caused by the sickness she was plagued with. Whatever it was, it was gone.

Deciding that she was too drained to even attempt to listen anymore, she allowed herself to relax, hoping that she would be able to at least get some rest.

* * *

><p><em>Riza stared at the vast emptiness before her, trying to make sense of it all.<em>

_Turning around, she saw a massive, grey…door?...gate?... behind her. Frowning, she looked it up and down. A variety of symbols, some alchemical, she realized, and others that were completely unknown to her. One that she did recognize, however ,was the symbol for flame alchemy; one that she knew all too well._

_Was that how she got there? When did she…_

_It suddenly hit her._

_The transmutation circle._

_The crazed doctor._

_The immense pain…_

"_So have you figured out where you are?"_

_She whirled around at the sound of the voice, finding herself face-to-face with a humanoid, white silhouette, its features barely visible against the alabaster background it stood against._

_She furrowed her brow. Was she dead? Was this-?_

"_Not exactly," the creature replied in a sing-song voice; as if it had read her mind. "But close," it added gleefully._

_Rather than play a guessing game with this… 'thing,' she decided to cut to the chase. "What are you?"_

"_Me? Why, they call me by many names," the androgynous figure quipped. "I am the world; the universe! I am God. I am Truth. Everything, yet nothing; all, but one. And," It pointed Its long, pale finger at her, "I am you." Suddenly, It was directly in front of her, Its face inches from hers. With one swift movement, It drove its hand into her chest._

_Riza barely had time to gasp before the silhouette vanished, only to reappear sitting cross-legged a few yards in front of her. Clutching her chest, her eyes flashed downward, expecting a mess of blood and gore. Instead, she found that everything was intact; the pain she expected nonexistent. Beneath her clenched fist, she could feel her heart beating. _What… what was that?

"_In exchange for your life, I took something of equal value," the figure boasted. Its grin widening, It pridefully declared, "Equivalent exchange," as It thrust Its thumb over its shoulder._

_Looking up, Riza looked past the figure and froze, her eyes widening with horror._

_Sitting cross-legged just a few feet behind it was another body, its hands cupped around something that rested in its lap. It slowly lifted its head, its blonde hair cascading in waves over its shoulders. Deep brown eyes caught hers, its brows raised in a sort of surprise._

_It couldn't be… That was impossible._

_It was… herself._

_Upon seeing Riza's shock, it smiled sadly at her._

"_What-what is this," Riza demanded in disbelief as she slowly backed away. After taking a few steps backwards, her back found the grey door she stood in front of._

"_Unfortunately," the white figure explained, "You're out of time." Raising Its hand up, it lifted one finger and grinned, "But remember this: Those that trespass in the domain of God _will _be punished."_

_Suddenly, the massive doors of the Gate behind her opened and a flurry of small black hands burst through the darkness, tangling and snaking around her. All at once, they tightened and began dragging her through the Gate. In a fit of fear, Riza tried desperately to break free. However, after realizing that her attempts were feeble and fruitless, she gave in and allowed herself to succumb to the darkness that had set in._

_As the Gate doors began to close, the last thing she saw through them was the copy. Its sad brown eyes locked on hers, it murmured, "Hurry back," before the doors slammed shut._

* * *

><p>Roy slowly opened his eyes and blinked, trying to chase the bleariness that had set in away. A moment later, he quietly hissed to himself and squeezed them shut, effectively blocking out the sunlight that poured through the motel room's window. He took a few seconds to process, trying to remember where he was.<p>

That's right… They were still in Arcadia. After his "chat" with Edward, Roy had slipped back into the room to attend to Riza, only to find that she had fallen asleep.

For a majority of the night he remained awake, keenly focusing all of his senses on her. At times when her breathing became painstakingly shallow, he slowly crept over to the edge of her bed and knelt there, leaning against it in order to monitor her breathing. Finally, during the last time, he had found that he had fallen asleep. After waking up with his arms folded atop the bed and his head upon his arms, he slowly slinked away from the bed and crawled into his own. In the event that she did wake up, he quietly assumed that she'd want the space. Despite fighting long and hard against the urge to sleep, he eventually surrendered and succumbed to it.

His thoughts once again going to Riza, he made an attempt to roll over in order to see her, but found that a slight pressure against his back prevented him from doing so. Baffled by the presence, he slowly turned his head to look over his shoulder, only to find a certain blonde curled up next to him; her back pressed against his own.

Moving cautiously and at a snail's pace, Roy slowly pulled away and navigated himself around so that he was now facing her back. He watched her for a few moments, praying that his movements didn't cause her to awaken.

She didn't stir; her side rising and falling with every slow, deep breath she took.

He kept his gaze on her for a moment longer, taking in her features. In this light, her blonde hair seemed to give off a radiant glow. Seeing his, he couldn't help but smile slightly. Their orientation was nearly the same as when he had awoken first after that fateful night in Ishval…

Except it wasn't, he now realized. Because then there was happiness, love, and hell, even reckless abandon. And now there were feelings of fear and the potential for loss in the forefront of his mind.

No, he decided; it was _nothing _like Ishval.

Suddenly, a slight movement caught his eye. Slowly shifting his gaze upward, he saw her ear twitch ever so slightly. Staring at it curiously, he watched as it twitched again. He hadn't seen them that closely yet. Had they been on something else, he would even go as far as describe their details as "masterfully crafted" in terms of alchemy. But on her... Using that description felt so wrong. She wasn't "art." She was a human being...

It only took him a few additional seconds to realize that the ear's fluttering was coinciding with every breath he took. Grasping this realization, he attempted to swallow the inevitable next breath he was about to release, resulting in a soft fit of coughs.

His attempts at trying to remain silent had failed.

Aroused from her sleep, Riza rolled over. Upon realizing that Roy was next to her, her saffron eyes locked on his and narrowed as a result of her confusion. "Sir," she croaked, her voice still waking up with her, "What are you doing?"

Unsure of how to answer, Roy didn't. And it turns out, he didn't even have to.

Her eyes widened in realization and she bolted upright, resulting in a wave of dizziness. Reaching up, she slapped her forehead with her hand and muttered something under her breath.

Sitting up along with her in concern, Roy asked, "Are you alright?" He knew that the question was horribly over-asked, but he didn't care. Something possessed her to seek comfort in him during the night and he desperately wanted to know why.

"I'm fine," she quietly shot back. "I'm…" she trailed off, her eyes gazing distantly ahead. After what appeared to be an internal struggle within herself, she gave in and let out a shaky sigh. "…Not." Taking a deep breath, she continued, "I'm angry, Roy… Angry and confused and hurting." She hung her head as if defeated. "But most of all… I'm terrified."

Looking down at her hands, she said, "I'm afraid of dying. It's stupid, it's selfish, but there's so much for left for us to accomplish. I made a promise to you and…" She stopped when she noticed her hands trembling and chuckled bitterly. "I can't even keep my emotions straight; frightened by a ridiculous nightmare. It seemed so real…"

Without Roy needing to pry or ask, she slowly eased her way into explaining it, perhaps out of desperation for comfort or out of fear; one thing was certain though: Roy would wholeheartedly listen, because right now she was allowing herself to open up.

As she trudged on, recounting every last detail, Roy felt a wave of sickness wash over him.

Her description was far too detailed and familiar to be a dream, nightmare, night terror. The vividness in which she described it left him feeling cold and numb.

He hadn't even realized that she had finished her tale, too consumed in an internal state of realization and dread.

It confirmed his deep-seated theory; one he hoped and prayed wouldn't be true. Edward made it clear that it was entirely possible something else could be taken.

Besides taking her humanity, it took the one thing that she used to guide herself and her decisions. The one thing that she put into everything she did; what she _lived _by.

The Truth took the one thing that defined her as 'Riza Hawkeye': Her heart.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **_And so ends Chapter 8. I hope you guys didn't mind the slight bit of dark humor I threw in there (hopefully it didn't border 'crack fiction.')._

_So a few quick things:_

_One, the "night" in Ishval that was briefly alluded to is important and will be mentioned several times from here on out since it is a significant turning point in their relationship. However, I don't know if I will write it out or simply imply enough as the story goes on to allow readers to formulate their own story._

_Two, I know that the whole "sneaking into Roy's bed" thing is incredibly OOC (I think) for Riza, but the purpose of it was to imitate something a canine would do. You know how sometimes there is a thunderstorm or something scary and your dog (if you have one) will seek comfort by staying close to you (like mine does). That's essentially what she subconsciously did after having that "dream."_

_Third, make sure you keep Riza's actions and words in this chapter in the back of your minds... they're important._

_**Fun fact!**: 'Bush nuts' is another name for 'macadamia nuts.' I renamed them since 'macadamia' is a pretty specific name (originating from Australia, might I add!). But the symptoms Riza displayed (loss of leg function, tremors, sickness, fever, severe lethargy) are all signs of macadamia nut toxicity. Interestingly, no one knows what exactly in the nuts causes toxicity. Other food that cause toxicity in canines are: chocolate, alcohol, grapes/raisins, caffeine, yeast, avocados, and xylitol (in gum). (So I sort of threw in that bit in the chapter partially because it will be important in the coming chapters, but also because my vet student background wanted to send out a slight public service announcement ;) )_

_Next chapter will be called "Road to Resembool." I know I didn't explain at all how they got to Arcadia so quickly, but I will next chapter since it will fit better! Expect it out sometime next week._

_Finally, thank you to all that have favorited, followed, and reviewed _Humanity_! Feel free to give me any feedback (especially if you feel that the characters are OOC!). I apologize for not responding to reviews like I said I would… Studying for Microbiology consumed my life this weekend! I promise to keep up this time…_


	9. Eighty-Eight

"Are you absolutely positive?"

"Yes," Roy answered with a slight tinge of annoyance in his voice. It had been the fifth time the young man had asked that very question.

Edward scratched his chin in ponderance, escaping into deep thought once again, no doubt troubled by Riza's "dream."

Roy watched Edward for a few moments, studying him. The young man looked downright exhausted, the darkness under his eyes evident in the well-lit hallway. When Roy had asked him if he had slept at all, Edward had shrugged and noted that it had been late before he finally went to sleep. Having known the young man for nearly nine years now, Roy knew that that meant, at the earliest, four or five in the morning.

"Did she say anything else," Edward asked, breaking Roy's train of thought.

Roy shook his head despondently. "No… But if she had I would have told you. After that she excused herself to go and shower off." He felt that he didn't need to elaborate on the fact that the reason she wanted to was because she still felt as if she was covered in blood…

Edward reluctantly grunted and nodded, obviously not thrilled by Roy's recounting of their most recent development. After thinking for a few moments, he added slowly, "Well, I guess that doesn't necessarily change things _too _much." Looking Roy square in the eye, he continued, "I still want us to stop in Resembool. I have a few Xersian scripts that I've partially translated; I _think _there could be something in them we could use. If not, I have another idea."

Roy raised his brow in response, expecting the young man to continue.

Edward shook his head slowly. "I can't say what I'm thinking yet until I talk to Al. I don't want to get your hopes up if it isn't plausible."

Roy couldn't help but frown in response. He wouldn't at least run it by him? Then again, he could have sworn that he saw a hint of defiance in the young man's eyes, as if taunting him and declaring that he also had a few secrets up his sleeve. He silently admitted that the tension between them was palpable ever since leaving the old alchemist's house…

However, Roy quickly pushed the thought away. He wouldn't allow himself to subconsciously wage war with the young man. He knew that Edward was their only valuable resource at this moment. To try and push him would be too risky.

…And Edward wouldn't keep that information to himself, right?

Finally, Roy nodded in reply. For the time being, he would follow Edward's lead.

Clearing his throat and awkwardly shifting his weight from foot to foot, Edward mumbled something about packing and getting ready to go.

Roy acknowledged him by agreeing, saying that he had to make one quick phone call to Central before they would leave.

"Alright," Edward stated. "Just be ready in about an hour." And with that the former alchemist turned on his heels and thrust his hands into his pockets, making his way down the hallway and toward his room.

Roy watched after him for a few moments before rotating back to his room's door and opening it, stepping inside. He could still hear the water running, signaling to him that Riza was still in the shower.

He quietly made his way over to and picked up the phone's receiver, collapsing heavily onto his bed as he began to dial. Holding the earpiece to his ear, he heard it ring a few times before a woman finally answered, asking for his name and the reason for his call.

After giving her his information, and noting that the nature of his call was urgent, the receptionist quickly transferred him to his own office.

By the second ring, he heard a familiar voice answer. "_Heymans Breda_."

"Lieutenant, it's Mustang," Roy answered authoritatively. "What's our status?"

Breda paused for a moment before slowly continuing, "_Well, sir, Havoc is doing well. Still on oxygen, but has enough stamina to be speaking, or rather, asking. _

"_Fuery is out of the red, but is still out cold. They need an additional two liters of blood before they do anything else. Said the infection is under control too_."

Roy couldn't help but sigh in relief. At least, for the time being, that was one last thing he needed to worry about. "Good. For now I think it's best to keep things between us. No need to stress them out," he added.

"_Agreed_," Breda said before pausing. After a few beats, he quietly asked, "_How's she doing?_"

Roy felt a slight twinge of pain in his chest. Even if he was going to be coding the remainder of this call, he still didn't feel the desire to talk about Riza's condition. Still, he knew that his Lieutenant was anxiously awaiting _some_ form of news.

"She's…doing well," Roy began. "We're lucky to have contacted her great-aunt on such short notice. You remember the one; the one with the red coat?"

"_Yeah_," he heard Breda say, understanding that their conversation was now covert. "_Good thing you thought of her on our way over to HQ._ _How long will she be staying?"_

"Not sure," Roy answered shortly when he heard the shower suddenly stop running. "But I'll be there for a while as well."

No doubt hearing Roy's sudden change in tone, Breda ended by saying, "_Well, tell her I say 'hello' and that Hayate and I are best buds now-_" Roy couldn't help but smile slightly at that. "_-And, sir?"_

"Yes, Lieutenant?"

"_I wanted to let you know that I'm still trying to find that paperwork you asked for a few days ago. Fuery must have hidden it well."_

His miniscule smile turned into a frown. "Understood. Just keep me updated."

"_Roger," _Breda replied before he hung up the line.

Staring down at the phone in his hand, Roy felt his frown grow. Breda had certainly made it clear. The files on this mysterious "Dr. Beller" were long gone, if there were any to begin with. Now they were left wondering just who this man was.

However, at that moment Roy didn't have too long to ponder, because he was abruptly pulled from his thoughts by a loud gasp that originated from the bathroom.

* * *

><p>Reaching into the shower and holding her hand under the running water, Riza decided that it had warmed enough. Quickly disrobing and avoiding looking into the mirror entirely, she slipped inside and into the showerhead's spray. After silently willing her still quaking knees to stop, she straightened her legs and allowed her shoulders to relax. But despite standing under the direct flow of water, Riza knew that what she really wanted to wash away could not be by mere soap and water. Wrapping her arms tightly around herself, she bowed her head and sighed heavily.<p>

She felt dirty.

Violated.

Defiled.

She awkwardly licked her lips, mixing a taste of bitterness and resent into the aftertaste of raw iron that was already present.

That "doctor" had done this; made her into this…abomination.

Saying that she hated him would be saying it too lightly. She loathed him, abhorred him, despised him… In the darkest corners of her mind, she secretly wanted and hoped for nothing more than to see that man dead… And if it were by her hand, it would be a plus.

Taking a ragged and deep breath, she buried her face in her hands and stood motionlessly, letting the water cascade over her head and shoulders. _They_ responded by flattening themselves against her head in an effort to block out the spray of water. This caused her to shudder severely. She wanted nothing more than to scream and cry, anything to express the anger and resent she felt.

But that just wasn't who she was. Besides, Roy and Edward had been nothing but strong for her.

She couldn't give up if they wouldn't. Riza was feeling far too harshly now to quit.

_Hah_, if Roy could hear her thoughts now, he'd wonder just who she was. Hell, she surprised herself with the amount of animosity she felt. But still, she couldn't help but feel that it was slightly justified…

And in that thought she turned her attention to the General. She immediately chastised herself for her actions, taking out her frustrations on him with harsh words and looks. Riza knew that he was trying all that he could to help, but he was just as clueless as she was. She didn't blame him at all for his actions or mistakes.

Now that she had time to think about it, however, she found that she couldn't even remember _why _she had lashed out at him. She knew that he had made a few minor mistakes, because who didn't? But thinking back, she found that the little instances that had caused a tinge of anger or annoyance had blended together in the light haze that slowly seemed to be setting in on her mind. Maybe 'haze' wasn't the best word to describe it… Fog? Cloud? Regardless, she found that the longer she tried to piece together the events and actions of everyone involved in the last two days or so, the more that it became jumbled and misplaced, not too unlike Edward and Roy's words from the night before…

At the very least she remembered snapping at him when they had first found her at Central Headquarters. After everything she had witnessed and heard from General Thomas, Roy had immediately honed his concerns in on _her_, when she believed that he needed to be focused on himself and _his _own hide. Looking back at it, she realized how incredibly foolish that seemed. Looking back, she knew that he was only looking out for her. After all, he wasn't the one being hunted by the military… yet.

And then there was the fiasco that was her somehow making it across the room and into his bed. Embarrassing could not begin to describe it. For this "mission" they were subordinate and superior; she had _no _right to seek comfort in him like that, even if it was to fulfill a subconscious desire to feel the warmth his back against her own. Seeking comfort for something that she knew deep down was no nightmare…

By that time the water had grown cold and the thoughts swimming in her head had begun to jumble again, causing her head to throb and ache. So for now, she decided, she would take it one step at a time; keep moving forward.

Shutting the water off, she stepped briskly out of the shower and grabbed the towel nearest her, hugging it tightly around herself. But after a few moments, the cool air that began to set in began nipping at her fingertips and toes, forcing her to seek out her neatly stacked pile of clothing. After finding her pants and slipping them on, she froze. Surely it had been a figment of her imagination…

A moment later, however, it happened again; something ever-so-lightly brushed against the back of her knee. It took every ounce of self-discipline to not become nauseas with realization.

From what Dr. Knox had said the nerves had migrated, which would explain her painful overreaction to the accidental placement of Edward's knee on her hospital bed; it seemed to him that the muscles had not moved along with the nerve fibers. But from the looks of it, he had been sorely mistaken, because that time _it _had moved on its own.

Indeed, it took every bit of her willpower to _not _react. But she needed to keep reminding herself of her resolve: keep moving forward, don't stop…

With that in mind, she quickly grabbed her balled up shirt and began smoothing it out when something red that had reflected in the mirror caught her eye. She knew that it was the deep red ink of the tattoo that adorned her back. This time, however, it seemed different.

Glancing over her shoulder, her eyes widened in realization, forcing an audible gasp to escape her lips.

Within moments she heard a set of heavy footsteps making their way toward the bathroom door. She instinctively held her shirt against her body, covering whatever she hadn't clothed. A heartbeat later the door flew open, revealing a disheveled and worried Roy Mustang.

For a split second she felt at ease, silently thanking him for making an appearance. However, that ease quickly dispersed, giving way to a feeling of anxiousness as she watched his eyes drift from her to the reflection of her back in the mirror.

She too looked back over her shoulder, as if to verify again what they were seeing. And indeed it was as she first had seen it.

The large, disfiguring tattoo was no longer an elaborate array of alchemical formulas and ancient words. Instead, the once, dare she say "beautiful?" array had become greatly distorted, the writings, letters, and columns rippled like waves across the skin on her back. The circle itself no longer had a shape that could be described simply, becoming a configuration of jagged and curved lines that now seemed to consume the remainder of available space. And finally, the small salamander that completed the array seemed to have grown, its small body becoming narrow and slender like a serpent's, snaking its way up from the center of her lower back to her left shoulder and replacing the burn scars that were now absent.

Slowly turning back to face the General, Riza found that his eyes were still on the array, drinking in its now mangled appearance. She watched him for a few additional moments until he blinked, focusing his attention on her once more.

Since the incident, she had tried to think of one good thing that could possibly come of it. And now, ironically, she has: the array was completely destroyed, unreadable. Trying her best to smile at and ease him, she murmured, "At least something _good_ has come of this…"

* * *

><p>"<em>I have given you <em>everything_ that you requested, "Doctor," and this is how you repay me?!"_

Dr. Beller held the phone receiver away from his ear in order to quiet the other man's tirade. After a few moments, the line was silent. Pressing it back against his ear, he nervously stated, "I-I know, sir. But you saw the result, the Stone didn't-"

"_I know what I saw and there was _no _indication that the Stone didn't work. Do you know how long it took me to get my hands on it; only for you to 'use it up' in one go?"_

"Sir-"

"_There will be no excuses," _the low, gravelly voice spat, cutting the doctor off. _"I will give you once last chance, _Beller. _I just contacted Arcadia's station and there were indeed three adults, two men and one woman, that boarded the train bound for Resembool. Their descriptions perfectly match those of the Flame Alchemist, Captain Riza Hawkeye, and the Fullmetal Alchemist. No doubt they are bound for the Fullmetal Alchemist's hometown. _

"_Now, your task is simple… I want you to simply go and retrieve Number Eighty-eight and bring her back alive. Kill anyone else you need to, except for the Flame Alchemist. He is still of use to me."_

"But sir, Fullmetal-"

"_-Is an alchemist no more," _the man on the other end of the line shot back agitatedly. _"Just bring her back, spare the Flame Alchemist, and slaughter the rest; I don't care!" _Before hanging up, the man added darkly, _"You have three days, Beller; and if you should fail, I will personally guarantee that your end will not be pleasant."_

Click.

Slowly pulling the receiver from his ear and staring down at it, the crazed doctor blinked a few times, taking in his employer's words. After letting them sink in for a moment, he turned to the two large figures that stood over his shoulder. "Well," he growled deeply, "You heard the man. We've three days… And there are to be _no _mistakes."

* * *

><p>General Thomas slowly hung up the phone's receiver, leaving his hand on it in the hopes that it would calm his trembling hand. But the constant reminder of the sheer incompetence that seemed to surround him only enraged him more.<p>

Upon hearing a knock at his door, he pulled his hand away and balled it into a fist, resting it atop his desk. Clearing his throat, he addressed his visitor, beckoning them to come in.

The door to his office slowly creaked open, revealing Lieutenant Colonel Wilson. Raising his right hand in salute, he noted, "Sorry sir, but I couldn't help but overhear your displeasure. I wanted to come and offer any assistance you may need."

Relaxing his shoulders slightly, the General shook his head. "At ease, Lieutenant Colonel." Leaning forward and lacing his fingers together, he challenged, "What did you overhear?"

Dropping his salute, Wilson stated, "Nothing really, sir. I simply overheard the tone of your voice, and thus came to investigate. But there is nothing for me to do; I can be on my way."

General Thomas chuckled lightly. "I appreciate the gesture, Lieutenant Colonel, but there is no need. I was simply demonstrating my dissatisfaction with one of our suppliers. You see, he was supposed to deliver eighty-eight goods to me, but has failed to produce a single order. But," he added cryptically, "I think that number eighty-eight is the charm, if you know what I mean."

"Yes… of course, sir," Wilson agreed unsurely as he dipped his head toward his superior officer. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm just going to finish up the remainder of this paperwork."

Thomas nodded slightly. "Alright, thank you Lieutenant Colonel."

"No problem, sir," the dark-eyed man responded before he saluted again and left, closing the door behind him.

The General waited for a few moments as he listened to his subordinate's fading footsteps before finally allowing the self-satisfied smirk he had been hiding to shine through.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **_Wow! It's been a month since I last updated! So here is the new chapter. Hope you enjoyed._

_Quick note: __**Ah! General Thomas?! But I-, he-, what?! **__…Exactly ;)_

_To be honest in the month I didn't update, I had considered abandoning the story. But then I had an idea and very slightly tweaked the path that it is on. So, while the possibility is still there, I am at least going to give it a few more chapters before deciding if I am going to drop it or not._

_But for now, thank you to all that have favorited, reviewed, and followed _Humanity! _I'm quite surprised and flattered to note that it is on the same track as _Pressure Point _in terms of number of follows by the ninth chapter. However, I know the two stories are completely different, so I don't necessarily expect the track to be the same. Regardless, thank you!_

_Finally, next chapter will have Royai, Edwin, and some action. If I post the next three chapters, they will pick up the pace immensely in order to go into the final two arcs, so I'm expecting this fic to be no longer than 20-25 chapters, depending on how I split it up. But we shall see…_


	10. Blood

A sense of relief washed over the trio as the Rockbell residence came into view. After a long day of travel, the idea that they would finally be able to sit down and relax was welcoming.

Well… That and the notion that Riza might be able to get some time to herself.

Because after her pathetic attempt at trying to find light in the situation, she discovered that her bid had fallen short with Roy. After an awkward and stammered out "yeah," Roy had grown quiet, remaining so for the remainder of the trip.

Maybe it was because he understood something that she didn't? But he would tell her that… wouldn't he?

The longer she thought about it, the more she second-guessed herself; and the more her thoughts and feelings became distorted, the worse the "fog" that had settled in her mind became...

And that, she soon realized, had become dangerous.

Silence on his end soon led to silence on hers, which allowed her time to think about other things... Things she didn't _want_ to think about.

She knew that there were times when he wanted to talk to her; she could feel his eyes on her at times during the train ride. The instances in which his eyes would fall on her began to become increasingly common the longer the trip was, correlating with her restlessness. Before the incident, she had no problem sitting idly with a good book on rides to and from Resembool; but now she found the task next to impossible.

Being stuck on that train made her feel helpless and confined. Caged.

So it was a major relief when they finally reached the small country town. She felt like she could finally breathe...

"Hey! We're home!"

Riza's head snapped up. She hadn't even realized that they had already arrived at the house, let alone realize that they were standing in the foyer.

The sound of footsteps approaching announced Winry's presence. A moment later, she rounded the corner, a dish towel and glass in her two hands. Smiling at them, she said, "Glad you guys made it back safely. I was just about to start dinner."

"Great! I'm starving," Edward exclaimed as he set his suitcase down and made his way over to his wife. After drawing her into a quick embrace, he released her and placed a hand in her swollen stomach. "How's my little man," he asked playfully.

Winry rolled her eyes and chuckled softly, "You mean 'little girl,' right?"

"Well, we'll find out who's right in a few months," Edward decided to, wisely, respond with.

Riza had almost forgotten how perfectly the pair went together. Every time she thought about it, she couldn't help but feel happy. They both had certainly gotten the lives they deserved.

"Why don't I show you guys to your rooms? Once everyone washes up and takes some time to relax, we can head back down for dinner," Edward suggested, jolting Riza from her thoughts once again.

"Is there anything you would like us to do to help," Riza offered, not wanted the young woman to go above and beyond for their sake...

"Oh, it's no problem; really! I was just going to thaw some lasagna I made a few days ago." Flashing a small smile toward the older blonde woman, Winry added, "Just take a while to rest."

And that's what confirmed it for her. Immediately after Winry spoke, Riza noticed that her heart rate had jumped, the pupils in her blue eyes dilating ever so slightly.

Edward had told her.

Well, of course he did. She had expected it. But actually seeing Winry's subtle and unconscious reaction suddenly made her feel self-conscious. Becoming aware of the top of her head, Riza silently noted that her hat was still in place, slightly alleviating the sudden awkwardness.

"Yeah, no big deal," Edward added with a shrug. "C'mon," he motioned for the pair to follow, "I'll show you your rooms."

Roy sidestepped and motioned for Riza to go first. Nodding toward him in silent thanks, she followed after Edward with Roy in tow.

After they ascended the stairs, Edward motioned to the first room on his right, "Is this one alright, Hawkeye?"

Without looking at it, Riza nodded. "Yes. Thank you, Edward."

"No problem," he replied with a slight smile. Turning slightly toward Roy, Edward started to address him, though the Colonel- no, General's eyes were on her.

Before Roy followed the young man and they went their separate ways, they relayed a silent message only the other would understand: Meeting. Soon.

It only took Riza a couple of minutes to get ready; the rest of the time she spent pacing anxiously back and forth. She didn't know if this was the appropriate time to be having this type of conversation, but she needed to be sure where they stood.

Her stomach was in knots, her nerves started to get the better or her. She wondered if he felt like this before he had asked something similar of her so many years ago...

She jumped when she heard a knock on her door. Drawing in a deep, shaking breath, she slowly walked over to it and opened it.

She hoped he would understand...

* * *

><p>After his conversation with Riza, Roy found that he was unable to eat or sleep, the thoughts in his head turbulent and restless. So when it was around two in the morning, Roy could no longer stand lying in bed. Silently slipping out of his room, he elected to wander to the part of the Rockbell house that lacked bedrooms. He needed a new place to sit and think.<p>

Before he made his way toward his destination, however, he paused when he saw a soft glow from beneath one of the doors in the opposing hallway. If he recalled correctly, behind that door was an office.

Walking over to it, he grasped the doorknob and turned it, pushing against the door. As it swung open, he saw a flash of blond and red scramble across the floor. Blinking a few times, he recognized the "flash" as Edward.

Staring hardly at the older man, Edward grumbled, "You mind knocking next time?"

Ignoring the young man's question, Roy slowly stepped into the room, taking in everything he could in the dimly-lit room. Drawn on the floor in chalk was an intricate transmutation circle, identical to the one they had discovered at the warehouse days before. On top of it and strewn about were various papers and opened books, their text difficult to distinguish in the soft glow of a lantern that was seated next to Edward, whom had positioned himself in the middle of the array. "What is all this," he breathed. Before he could take another step forward, Edward raised his hand, stopping him in his tracks.

"Hold on." Scooting forward again, Edward smudged out another part of the transmutation circle's border. Looking up at Roy, he said, "The very last thing I need is for you to activate it. Knowing my luck, I'd be stuck with your ugly mug."

Roy ignored the offhanded comment. "You didn't answer my question from before. What is all of this," he asked again as he gestured to the articles that were scattered around.

"Research," Edward mumbled with a shrug as he looked back down at the book in his lap. "I almost have this text translated…"

"And you're doing all of this at," Roy looked down at his pocket watch to confirm, "Two-thirty in the morning?"

"Yeah," Edward replied without looking up from the book, turning the page as he added, "Not really a big deal. I do it all the time."

"Yes… Except you barely got any sleep last night. Shouldn't you be in bed with your wife getting, you know, some decent sleep for once?"

Focusing his full attention on Roy once again, Edward scoffed, "What are you, my dad?"

Roy rolled his eyes, remembering having this conversation with the young man many a time when he had been a teenager. "No, but what can you accomplish at two-thirty-"

"I think I have it," Edward said bluntly, cutting the older man off.

Thrown off by the young man's response, Roy blinked and asked, "You…what?"

"I think… I think I figured something out," Edward replied slowly. "It's the thing I mentioned before that I wanted to run by Al. But seeing that he still hasn't arrived in Nippon and contacted Ling, I guess you're the next best thing."

Disregarding Edward's slight change in tone, Roy sat cross-legged on the floor and began asking questions, hoping not to sound too optimistic. After all, he needed to remember that Edward had mentioned it was a longshot.

"Well…," Edward began, as if unsure where to start. "You see this symbol here," he asked as he pointed to a rounded emblem on his right. "It represents blood. And these," he lightly traced one of the lines that ran into it, "Represent binding. So, 'bound by blood.'

"Hawkeye said that the 'doctor' slit her throat. And he waited until the two blood supplies connected and mixed, right? So I guess that the most basic assumption would be that the key to this transmutation is blood. But," furrowing his brow, Edward lowered his voice slightly, "The issue with the transmutation is also blood." He looked Roy straight in the eye to see if the he was following.

Roy had been, up until that point. He understood that blood was important, but he didn't understand its role.

Seemingly noticing Roy's confusion, Edward continued, "It's not something I like to talk about often, but when Al and I attempted to bring our mother back we used our blood as 'Soul Data.' Since it had half of her genetic makeup, we figured it would be enough to be a template for her genetic particles.* Looking back, I realize that it was not enough. That and a few other factors, like not realizing that Al and I also inherited half of our genetic particles from our lame-ass father.

"So," Edward advanced excitedly, his eyes lighting up as he spoke, "The key is pure blood. Using the correct transmutation circle, we could use Hawkeye's own blood to 'reprogram' the cells in her body. The transmutation would force the new genetic particles out, replacing them with the old particles in order to allow them to proliferate, and restore her body to what it was before."

Roy arched his brows in surprise. The idea was… extremely well-thought out. But-

"But the issue, like I said, is blood," Edward continued, answering Roy's next question. "We would need a lot of it. And we can't use the blood she has now; it would be pointless. We need blood from before the transmutation…" He trailed off, once again looking to Roy.

Roy felt his hopeful face falter slightly. She had donated blood in the past, especially after the Promised Day. But recently, he knew that she hadn't because of all the work and late nights.

Seeing the General's reaction, Edward tried another approach. "Is there something, anything out there with her blood on it? I think it could work even if it's dried."

Roy thought long and hard. He didn't just keep something lying around with Riza's blood on it. What would be the point? There wasn't-

_Wait_…

His eyes widened in realization. "I'll be right back," he tossed over his shoulder, already halfway to the door. Eyes unadjusted to the lack of light, Roy stumbled through the darkness and to his room. Throwing the light switch on, he strode over to his jacket and dug his hand into the pocket. When he found them, he wrapped his fingers around them gingerly and produced them from his jacket. Without a second thought, he made his way back to the office and sat down on the floor at the edge of the transmutation circle.

When Edward eyed him curiously, Roy extended his arm and opened his hand, revealing a familiar set of silver earrings that rested on his palm.

Edward's eyes widened in anticipation and recognition as he leapt to his feet and grabbed a small Petri dish from the desk. Making his way back over to Roy, he held it out, inviting him to drop them in. When he had, Edward leaned over the glass dish and held it close to his face, examining them.

After a minute or so, he looked up at Roy, the spark in his eyes glowing brighter. "This could work," he breathed. "This could really work…"

Not trying to sound too hopeful, Roy objected to one observation he made. "You said that we'd need a lot of it though…"

Looking back down at the earrings, Edward nodded in agreement. "Actually, we have even less than you think." Pointing to the studded part of one of the pieces of jewelry, he said, "I doubt this blood is viable because it's on the outer edges and most likely stained with the tainted blood. But this," he motioned toward the earring's stalk, "Is most likely blood from her ears when they were torn out at the _beginning_ of the transmutation." His eyes on Roy again, he could tell that the young man sensed his disbelief.

"The thing about alchemy is that you can take one thing and make something new with it, as long as the fundamental elements are the same. Since we know the makeup of genetic particles and blood, we could make more of it using this as a template.

"From what I gather, it's rigorous and tedious... But it's possible..."

Roy let Edward's words slowly sink in. It was possible…

Seeing Edward's beaming smile confirmed that the young man was confident in what he was saying. It was really possible…

They could altogether avoid Truth...

Edward's voice broke through Roy's concentration, bringing him back to their conversation. "We could go tomorrow morning and get some supplies. If we first try it and make a small amount from maybe a mouse or something, we could inject a minuscule portion of it into its vein to see if it reacts to itself. If it doesn't, then the blood was pure… And we could use the same technique to make viable blood for the reversal."

Roy watched the animated young man for a few moments, marveling at his determination and genius. He never truly ceased to amaze…

"Alright," he said as he stood, trying to hide his overwhelming excitement. "Tomorrow we'll go and get supplies, but only if you actually _sleep_ tonight."

Edward rolled his eyes at the man's overprotective gesture, though he was smiling. "Yeah, yeah…" Grabbing the lantern next to him, he carefully maneuvered his way through the circle, taking care to not smudging anything else. When he got to the edge, he carefully stepped out of it to stand next to Roy. Casting one last glance over his shoulder, Edward followed after the older man and closed the door firmly behind him.

* * *

><p>Riza slowly made her way down the stairs and toward the rich aroma that was emanating from the kitchen. Judging by the medley of smells that ranged from raw beef and gravy to carrots and onions, someone was in the early process of making beef stew. Frowning to herself, she realized that that meant it was nearing lunchtime already.<p>

She had overslept. Something she had not done since she was a child.

Stepping lightly into the kitchen, she found Winry struggling to place a large pot of water on top of the stove.

Rushing over, Riza grabbed the body of the pot and helped her heave it onto the oven top. Once that had been done, she eyed the young blonde harshly. "Winry," she gently scolded, "You shouldn't be lifting this much weight in your state."

Winry blushed sheepishly and cast Riza a sideways glance. "I know, but I didn't want to wake you."

Riza shook her head. "That doesn't mean that you shouldn't," she pointed out. "This is about you and your baby. Not about me and my sleeping habits. Besides," she looked around the room for a clock, "I have a feeling I overslept."

Winry shrugged and sent her a small smile. "If you did, it wasn't by long. It's only 8:30," she pointed out, gesturing toward the clock behind Riza.

Turning to confirm that it was indeed 8:30, Riza frowned slightly. Sure it was early, but she was always promptly up by 5am sharp, regardless of whether or not she had an alarm set. Still, she chastised herself internally for not being up sooner to help the young blonde.

Rotating back to Winry, she grasped the onions that were laid out on the counter. "Here, let me help you with these."

Seemingly relieved, Winry graciously accepted her offer and thanked her.

With a small nod, Riza grabbed the kitchen knife that was next to the onions, moved them over to the cutting board and slowly began peeling them.

It only took her a few moments to realize her mistake. The more layers she peeled back, the more her eyes and nose stung. The odor was extremely harsh to her heightened senses, almost to the point of being unbearable. Still, she had offered and felt that it was disrespectful handing the job over to the pregnant young woman. So she decided to trudge onward, knowing full well that she'd only be smelling onions for the rest of the day.

She was so absorbed in trying to focus on not smelling the foul food that Riza almost didn't realize Winry was watching her. Turning her head slightly, she shot a small smile toward the young woman. "Is something the matter, Winry?"

Her face turning a shade redder, Winry quickly shook her head. "No, no, no. I just, well-"

Riza felt her small smile slowly fade. She suddenly began to feel increasingly self-conscious of the hat that rested on her head.

"I- I was just going to say that you can remove your hat. It's okay."

Riza was taken aback. She hadn't expected that. In fact, she had almost expected the young woman to draw attention to it by asking a flurry of questions. Feeling her smile return, she said, "I appreciate it, Winry, but if it's alright with you I'd prefer to keep it on. It's surprisingly comfortable."

That was a lie. In reality, she was convinced that the small and humid microenvironment the hat was creating beneath it was beginning to give her an ear infection. But for some reason she was extremely uncomfortable without it on in the presence of anyone other than Roy or Edward. So she had resigned herself to suffering through it for a few more days until she, hopefully, grew more comfortable.

Winry seemed reluctant, but eventually nodded in slight agreement, turning back to the carrots she was cutting.

The two remained silent until Riza cleared her throat, breaking it. "So, where have the men gone at this hour?"

A smile in her voice, Winry said, "They left about a half hour ago to pick up a few things from the market in town. They should be back in about two hours or so."

Riza couldn't help but smile at the thought of the two men, who would normally bicker about anything they could find, attempting to agree on whatever they'd bring back with them. And at the same time, it brought up a sense of longing in her. For whatever reason, the notion had a homely feel to it, something she didn't even realize she craved.

She was about to respond when a muted creak filled her ears. Stopping what she was doing, she strained to listen.

Another creak. This time she was not mistaken.

Forgetting that she had the knife in her hand and was still in mid-conversation with Winry, Riza cautiously and silently advanced, listening for the sound once more. As she reached the corner that separated the kitchen, she guardedly edged herself around the corner, only to find herself face-to-face with Roy… and an unknown assailant.

Before she could do anything to respond, a massive weight slammed into her side, forcing her to the ground. Before her arms were pinned, she slashed at her aggressor with the knife, slicing into his left cheek.

The assaulter howled in surprise and clawed feverishly at his face, giving her the opportunity to scramble out from beneath him.

As she stumbled to her feet, her eyes still on the massive and muscled aggressor, the scream of something slicing through the air rang in her ears. She instinctively ducked, just barely missing the enormous arm that swung over her head. Combat skills long forgotten were returning to her.

In one swift movement, she rotated the knife in her hand and thrust it behind her, feeling it bury into a tough piece of flesh.

The second aggressor cried out in pain as it lashed out again, this time missing her by mere centimeters. Using the heel of her foot, she pushed herself off and away from him. While trying to catch her footing, Riza heard a third assailant behind her. Turning swiftly with her knife raised, she froze.

This time she saw him more clearly. It was Roy; his face covered in cuts and bruises… and his arms were bound behind him, his mouth duct taped shut. His widened, panicked eyes screamed for her to run.

She couldn't run. Not without-

Another weight smashed into her from behind, slamming her to the floor once more. She watched helplessly as the knife skidded away from her and out of her reach. A massive hand grabbed both of her arms and held them behind her. A second one slammed into her face, pressing her cheek against the living room's hardwood floor.

Through the fringe that obscured most of her vision, Riza could make out two figures coming toward her. One was clad in a white jacket and the other…

Her eyes widened in recognition.

The doctor smiled playfully at her as he pushed his hostage forward. Raising and pressing his signature blood-stained hunting knife to Winry's throat, he purred, "It's been a while, hasn't it?"

Riza narrowed her eyes in response. "What do you want," she growled.

"Why… I want you my dear," he remarked lightly.

"Well, you have me," she retorted, "So let them go."

"Ah, ah, ah," Dr. Beller shook his head. "My orders were perfectly clear. I am to kill every. Last. One of them. And," he pressed the knife even more firmly against Winry's throat, "I think I'll start with this one."

Riza's eyes widened with horror as a small trickle of blood ran down Winry's neck.

"I wonder," the doctor pondered absently. "I wonder how long it would take for her to bleed out? Or," he grinned madly, "I wonder how long before the infant inside of her dies?"

She heard a strangled cry to her right, confirming her suspicion that they had captured Edward as well.

"Please," Riza begged, "Let them go."

"Oh, but my orders-"

"Damn your orders," Riza yelled. "Let them go. Just please… let them go."

"You are in no position to be making demands, my dear. But please, humor me."

Oh, she'd humor him alright. "If you don't, I will continue to fight until my dying breath. From what it sounds like, you need me alive; but I can guarantee you I can finish the job before you take me to whomever gave you those orders."

To her left she heard a muffled scream, no doubt belonging to Roy. She didn't need to look at him to know that he was fighting with all of his might to struggle away from his assailant's firm grip.

Still, she kept her eyes locked on the doctor, anxiously awaiting his reply.

The crazed man in the white coat considered it, glancing up at the ceiling in deep thought. Finally, he looked down his nose at her. "So… You won't fight?"

She did her best to shake her head yes. She wouldn't fight… for now.

"And all I need to do is let them live?"

Again she nodded eagerly in response. "My life for theirs… Equivalent exchange, right," she added with a tinge of acidity in her voice.

"Hmm… Very well then..." The doctor aggressively pushed Winry to the ground, eliciting a cry of pain from her. Turning his back to them and walking away, the doctor calmly ordered over his shoulder, "Tie them all up. Be sure to bind them tightly."

Out of the corner of her eye, Riza saw Roy's pained expression, his sorrowful eyes watching her. She shot him a disheartened look that said "I had to do it…"

However, his pained expression gave way to one of alarm, then hysteria.

Before she could even begin to wonder what he was trying to convey, a blunt force slammed into her skull from behind, knocking her out instantly.

* * *

><p>"Sir, I-I got her, just like you asked."<p>

_"Good. Now do what you can… and break her."_

* * *

><p>Riza groaned softly as she slowly came to, trying to figure out what had caused the immeasurable pain in the back of her head. She felt her ears slightly twitch in response to a constant drip that she gradually was able to make out as her senses returned. Accompanying the sound of leaking water was the thick scent of mildew and decay that hung in the musty air.<p>

Shifting uncomfortably, she realized that her hands were bound behind her back. Testing her binding's strength, she deduced that it wasn't something she could easily slip out of. Frowning at the predicament, she moved again, causing a sharp pain to radiate through her skull.

Before she could whimper in protest to the pain, a sudden force jerked her upright and into a sitting position. Eyes jolted open in shock; she found that her glassy gaze was met by a set of cold, hardened eyes.

The doctor grinned wickedly. "Welcome to hell, my dear."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **_I know... I'm just as surprised as you are that I got this out as quickly as I did! I think sitting on the tarmac at an airport for about 3 hours inspired me to write another chapter... Although for some reason part of me is happy with the chapter while the other part isn't..._

_Still working on Pressure Point's chapter though. I really want to make it longer since my last few were so short._

_Quick note: Genetic particles* = DNA. I remember learning about DNA being called an 'inheritable genetic particle' when learning Mendelian genetics._

_Anyways, I purposely left Riza and Roy's conversation out because it will come up again in a few chapters. It'll all make sense..._

_Next chapter is the turning point in the story and shall be titled "Broken." It will kind of contain a one month time skip._

_Finally, thank you to all that have favorited, followed, and reviewed so far! I appreciate everyone taking the time to ask me not to discontinue, which probably won't happen now because I had a few more ideas. But again, we shall see! If you see anything I could change, especially OOCness, please let me know!_

_P.S. I will try to respond to reviews for the last chapter later today or tomorrow; it's been crazy! _


	11. Broken

**A/N: **_Most of this chapter takes place over the span of a few weeks. It seems fast, but the next chapter will have explanations/more examples. _

_Well... You'll see..._

* * *

><p>Edward was the first to release himself from the ropes that had held him prisoner. As he rubbed his wrists, he rushed over to his semi-conscious wife and began frantically untying her bindings while repeating her name in an effort to keep her with him.<p>

If he had to guess, they had been tied down for six hours or so. Meaning that the men that took Hawkeye were long gone...

Finally, he felt the rope slacken then fall, and her along with them. Reaching out, he caught her and eased her to the ground.

"Winry," he gasped as he placed his hand on her face. "Winry, please answer me."

She wearily obeyed, opening her eyes as she placed her hand atop his own. "I'm alright," she murmured tiredly. "Just...just worn out."

"Did they hurt you anywhere else? How's-"

"Edward...he's alright," she reassured him as her free hand went down to rub her stomach. "Actually, he's doing _very _well. He hasn't stopped kicking..."

Still, he continued to press as he leaned over her, asking any and every question that came to mind, in which she confidently and truthfully answered every single one.

Finally he accepted her reassurances. After pecking her gently on the forehead with his lips, he turned his attention to the third prisoner. Rushing over to Roy Mustang, he prodded him on the shoulder.

The Flame Alchemist, whom had stopped responding to Edward's words hours ago, barely stirred, his head hung limply.

"Mustang," Edward growled, trying to hide his worry, "Wake up."

Still no response.

Edward's stomach dropped. They had both been beaten up pretty badly, but he didn't think Mustang was hurt _that_ severely. Still, he knew that the older man had been in an immense amount of pain to begin with.

As he began to on push Mustang's shoulder in an effort to wake the man, Edward's eyes slowly wandered over to his other shoulder. With the way the fabric of his jacket fell, it was not apparent that it dislocated. However, Edward was positive it was...

They had been walking toward town when they were ambushed. It happened so quickly that Mustang didn't have the chance to react, even by clapping his hands.

They somehow knew that he was able to do clap alchemy now, because their first targets were his hands. One of the monstrous men that had attacked them instantly went for the Flame Alchemist's arm. Taking it between his massive hands, he had pulled and rotated. Despite Edward being a reasonable distance away, he still heard the terrible noise Mustang's joint made upon separation.

The resulting scream that Mustang responded with had been enough to distract Edward from his fight long enough to get him tackled to the ground. As he struggled in an attempt to get away from their grip, Edward could see Mustang still fighting, his left arm hanging limply at his side. However, it didn't take them long to subdue and bind him as well.

After that, it was only a matter of time before their captors toted them back to his own home and found the women almost unaware of the assailants. If Hawkeye hadn't heard them, he suspected that the fight would have been a lot shorter.

She had fought valiantly in an attempt to beat off the intruders, but he knew that eventually she too would fall. And when she did, she still fought; trying desperately to barter for their lives as they were threatened.

Then, for some reason, the insane man and his lackeys listened and agreed to spare them in the last moments she was conscious...

Finally his constant prodding and pleading got him a reply.

Mustang groaned and slowly lifted his head. After blinking a few times, he gasped, eyes snapping over to the last place he saw Hawkeye. The grief on his face was clear when he saw the remains of a shattered lamp in the place she had been.

As he began to become more aware of his surroundings, Edward raced to the kitchen and back, bringing with him a kitchen knife. He carefully sliced through the ropes around Mustang's legs, body, and hands.

"How's your shoulder," Edward finally asked, his eyes scanning up to its joint.

Still staring vacantly ahead, Mustang murmured, "Fine," as he absently reached up to rub it. The instant his hand touched it, he winced violently and hissed.

"Hey! Take it easy," Edward scolded as he raised his hands to help the man. However, he stopped when Mustang slowly rose to his feet and attempted to take a step forward. Almost instantly his knees gave out and he crashed to the ground.

"Idiot," Edward snapped harshly as he tried to push the fallen man into a sitting position.

But Mustang's determination was stronger than Edward's command to remain still. Again the man tried to struggle to his feet. This time he muttered breathlessly, "We need to find her... She needs me."

Edward clapped a hand in the man's shoulder and pushed him back down. "I know that! We will; I promise we-"

"No," Mustang snapped. "We need to soon. No... Sooner than that. Now."

Edward felt his stomach drop. Why _now_? Of course they needed to find her. But the urgency in Mustang's voice was genuinely scaring him.

"Because," Mustang choked out, "Because she _warned_ me..."

* * *

><p>He had called it 'hell,' but Riza wondered if the crazed doctor even knew the meaning of the word.<p>

Ishval during the war was hell.

Being reassigned under Fuhrer King Bradley and pulled away from her superior officer had been hell.

Having her throat slit and having her life dangled in front of the man she loved had been hell.

This...was not hell. Unless he considered three meals and four escorted trips to the washroom as its definition.

Obviously she wanted nothing more than to get escape. She had pushed against every concrete block she could reach and twisted every single iron bar that held her in this small, prison-like cell to check if anything had been loose. Unfortunately, everything was tightly sealed.

Her demands to be released, or at the least receive information on why they held her there, were constant, albeit still unanswered. The doctor would merely chuckle and shake his head from the other side of the bars when she did, ignoring her venomous glare.

She hated him.

Her feelings of loathing were there, seething just below the surface.

And she could tell that he feared her, or at the very least was very, very uneasy while around her. He always brought at least two goons with him, always keeping them between her and himself.

But even they, she came to realize, were slightly put off by her. One of them, the one with a lanky and thin body was, she deduced, mixed with a reptile of sorts. Another, she discovered, had been blended together with some kind of bird, his large oblong nose being the evidence. A third that she saw only on rare occasions had large, rippling muscles, but was extremely skittish. Horse, she later discovered. Unlike her, their physical features were nearly unchanged...

And although their uneasiness was subtle, it was clearly there. And that's when she realized that in their eyes, she was a predator, and they the prey.

The thought was foreign and unsettling to her, but she kept it in the back of her mind for future reference.

Because in a way, their reluctance was strangely satisfying...

* * *

><p><strong><em>"How are things going?"<em>**

**"Fine, fine," Beller answered into the phone's receiver with a hint of pride. "Everything is going smoothly thus far."**

**_"Then why is it taking so long," _Thomas demanded agitatedly. _"You said that-"_**

**"I said that it takes time, General," Beller appealed to the angered officer. "Sometimes you have to break something more before you can fix it; it depends on the individual. That takes time," he explained.**

**"_I've done my waiting," _Thomas growled through the line. _"It seems as though your methods are not working."_**

**"They are, they are," Beller reassured quickly. "It's subtle now, but I can see it working clearly-"**

**_"See _what _clearly," _the General snapped.**

**The doctor cleared his throat nervously. "M-mannerisms, sir. Mannerisms, actions, simple gestures," he listed. "My methods are to irritate until it begins to show these 'signs'.**

**"The soul of the animal is long gone; it's dead. But its influence, instincts, irritants are still there below the surface. I aim to irk her enough to make the habits arise.**

**"For example," he explained, "The animal hated to be caged; that nearly drove it mad! And she's beginning to show signs of discomfort, because she's-"**

* * *

><p>Pacing.<p>

That was all Riza seemed to do now.

She'd stop only when the doctor and his lackeys disrupted her, when they'd bring her food, when one of them would come to escort her to a washroom, or when she slept. Other than that, despite how much she tried to stop it, she found that she couldn't. As soon as her guard was down, she'd find herself on her feet again, pacing back and forth the entire length of the cell.

If she stopped, an anxiety-driven tightness would form in her chest and the walls would seem as if they were closing in on her. So her solution was to continue, allowing herself that time to think and plan.

But still... It nearly felt as if she was being driven mad.

* * *

><p><strong>"And-and I've noticed a curious decline in word association and understanding."<strong>

* * *

><p>Riza didn't know when it had first happened, but at some point the doctor's words had begun to no longer make any sense.<p>

It started with one word in a sentence, but it soon progressed to another, then another.

She couldn't figure out what language it was. Aside from her native Amestrian, she was familiar with some Cretian and a hint of Xingese; though she could recognize Aerugean and Drachman when she heard it.

But this...this was a completely different language.

* * *

><p><strong>"I've also noticed that's she's becoming more accepting of certain... circumstances."<strong>

* * *

><p>The first few times the doctor and his musty-scented monsters came into the cell demanding a blood sample, she fought. She struggled and writhed and clawed at their grasps until they were able to pin her with her arms behind her back. Even when they moved one of her arms for the sample to be taken from, she still attempted to defy them. This resulted in them painfully twisting it until it almost came loose from its socket.<p>

Once it was all said and done, they'd leave, with the doctor throwing a thoughtless, "Thank you, Eighty-eight," over his shoulder. To which she'd respond by bitterly correcting him with, "Riza."

But he never took the correction to heart.

After probably the ninth or tenth blood draw, she finally stopped struggling and stopped correcting him. What was the point?

* * *

><p><strong>"Although," he chuckled darkly as he looked down at his throbbing, casted hand, "It seems that no matter what, I can't get her to like me."<strong>

* * *

><p>Every time the doctor came in, he was accompanied by at least two other guards, oftentimes they would enter before him in order to restrain her. They knew that, if given the chance, she'd try to make him pay. Plus, keeping her restrained made them feel at ease too...<p>

One of the times when they had come in to draw her blood, the doctor noted that one of her ears was drooping slightly. The one that was bothering her slightly more before when she was convinced she had begun to develop an ear infection.

A quick glance inside it confirmed that she indeed had one.

As he pulled away, one of the men let their guard down and loosened his grip ever so slightly.

That moment was all she needed.

In one swift movement, she clamped her teeth down tightly on his hand.

The beginnings of the resulting scream only fueled her hatred as she clenched her jaw and sank her teeth deeper and deeper until-

_Snap!_

The sound confirmed it.

She obediently let go as the two chimera that were holding her yanked her away, the doctor himself pulling his broken and bloodied hand away from her, cradling it in his arm.

Tasting blood in her mouth, she spat it out while fixing her hardened, loathing glare on the doctor. The corners of her lips twitched with the ghost of a wicked, triumphant smile.

For a moment he mirrored her cold gaze, until his lips curled upwards as he began to chuckle. His chuckle then morphed into a laugh, which quickly escalated into a gleeful roar.

Taken aback by his change in response, Riza felt her face soften slightly as her glare became a look of confusion.

She was in such a state of dismay that she hadn't realized the other chimera had released her. It wasn't until they were out of the door, ushering the injured doctor out that she even processed what has happened.

Even as he was leaving, his crazed eyes followed her, his fits of laughter escalating the further he got. Finally he was out of view, his chortles dying as he moved away.

In a complete state of shock she stared down at her hands in disbelief, trying to process what had just happened.

Why... Why had she done that?

* * *

><p><strong>"So I can assure you, sir, that this <em>will <em>work," Beller said as he ended his explanation.**

**The man on the other end of the line was silent for a few moments. Finally, General Thomas spoke, his tone hushed. _"Very well then... I expect you will call me when it is time for me to take part in this. Understood?"_**

**"Y-yes, sir," the doctor stammered as he tried to hide his smile. "I will call as soon as-"**

**_Click._**

**Pulling his ear away from the receiver, the doctor grinned madly.**

**Things were finally beginning to fall into place.**

* * *

><p>No longer able to ignore the ache in her legs, Riza took a break from her excessive pacing and sat down on the bench she used as a bed. Burying her face into her hands, she tried desperately to pull random names from her head to see which ones fit.<p>

In her dream last night, Roy had been there, of course. But there had also been two others; others she felt she should have recognized.

They looked like they were related, both of them with golden hair and golden eyes. At some points in her dream they were older, and at others they were smaller. The younger of the two, however, would change shape and become larger and metallic.

That made no sense. Metal wasn't flesh and flesh wasn't metal. She dismissed it as a dream; it simply wasn't possible...

Still, she felt something nagging at her at the back of her mind.

She had known them at _some _point...

* * *

><p>This time she knew she was simply forgetting. She <em>knew <em>these men.

That night she dreamt of a team of five without including herself. At one point she had known their names... But now she couldn't think of them, except for Roy's. He was a constant, unwavering reminder of who she was.

The others, though, were fading from her mind.

Did the one with gray hair have rims around his eyes, or did the heavier one? No... The heavier one was the one that lit sticks on fire and put them in his mouth... Right? Or was that the small one with the black hair?

Then what did the sandy-haired one do? What was his role?

Their voices, faces, and features were fading...

* * *

><p>She had killed people. In a land of sand and red-eyed people; she had slaughtered them.<p>

Roy-no, Major- had been there too, setting fire to the rest.

His eyes screamed 'killer.'

No doubt her eyes declared that too...

They were both there...but why? What had been their purpose? They both clearly did not want to be there.

She remembered a time when, after the gunfire had ceased for the night, he found her and held her, chasing the nightmares away.

Wrapping her arms around herself and pulling her knees to her chest, she desperately tried to relive that moment; when, despite being surrounded by blood and hate and war, she felt safe and loved.

* * *

><p>This wasn't happening...<p>

This wasn't happening!

What were his features?!

His eyes? Were they blue or obsidian in color?

His darkened hair? Neatly trimmed and combed back or shagged and messy?

She had tried desperately to keep his image in her mind, clinging to it for dear life. She couldn't forget him... She wouldn't!

He had been her everything! Her purpose, her dedication... Her life... Love...

Or had he been? Had she been trying to hold onto the face of a simple stranger this entire time? Did she replace the one she was supposed to remember with the wrong visage?

No... because why would she have tried to keep this image in her mind so desperately unless he held a great significance to her.

...What was his name?

With both of her hands on the side of her head, she rocked gently, trying to ease the pain that accompanied her trying to remember.

She whispered something under her breath, but that didn't even seem remotely close to a sound that would define who he was to her.

The image she had in her mind was beginning to contort and change.

She tried in vain to keep it in her mind. No... she couldn't lose him.

He was all she had left! She couldn't... She couldn't...

No.

No.

No...

As the throbbing in her skull began to dull, she moved her hands from the sides of her head to her bury her face into them. Her eyes had become wet with tears.

Taking a deep breath, she decided to start anew as she tried to dry her face.

But...What was she trying to remember...?

* * *

><p>The sound of footsteps woke her with a start.<p>

These ones were different. The sounds they made were not normal.

She rolled over and watched as he doctor, two of "his," and an unidentified man appeared.

They exchanged words briefly before the doctor pulled a set of keys and unlocked the door, ushering the three others in. He, however, remained outside. As he should.

She kept her glare on him longer than she intended to, her lips pulled back menacingly.

He should _stay _out there...

Suddenly her view of him was blocked.

Glaring up at the one that was in her way, she identified him as the unknown man. Looking at him from down to up, she realized that he was the source of the unusual footsteps. Because instead of two legs he had three; his third, wooden one held in his hand, most of his weight leaning into it.

Her glare was met with his piercing, hardened eyes.

Suddenly, something inside of her begged for her to run. The hairs on her neck stood on end amidst her internal panic.

But there was nowhere to go. They'd catch her.

But his gaze... It was unnerving, it was unsettling, it was... Terrifying.

She instinctively lowered her gaze to the floor, ears pressed firmly against her head.

What did he want? What did he want? What did he want?!

...Did he want blood?

She slowly lifted her arm and offered it to him, wanting it to be over with already.

But much to her surprise and horror, he slowly knelt down to her level and gently pushed her hand away. Then he began to speak.

But she didn't understand him. His words, noises, were blended together and were completely unintelligible.

Then his words stopped, possibly realizing she wasn't listening.

She heard the sound of ruffling, but dared not raise her head.

Without another word, the aged unknown shoved something flat and thin into her field of vision.

Despite her discomfort, she willed herself to raise her eyes to look at it.

He moved it closer to her. He _wanted _her to take it.

Reluctantly she did.

Examining it closey, it appeared as if there was someone stuck inside of it.

Flipping it over, she was greeted with a blank back.

So just on one side...

Turning it back, she glared at the person in it.

He had dark hair with equally dark eyes, pleasing to the eye. The garments he wore were identical to the stranger's...

For a fleeting moment, she felt a pang of recognition and an ache in her heart, though it quickly passed.

What was she supposed to get from this?

Slowly looking back up at the unknown, she saw that his lips were pulled upward in a smile that showed through the graying hairs on his face. When his eyes caught hers, he began to speak again, but he ended his string of words with a certain type of inflection.

He was asking her questions.

But she couldn't answer if she didn't understand him. And even if she could, her ability to even form coherent sounds in response had disappeared...if she was even able to to begin with.

His questions were becoming choppier and shorter, the pauses between them longer and more drawn out.

She kept her eyes down on the paper in her hands. Maybe the words had to do with this?

None of them seemed to fit, however.

It wasn't until he had uttered a question that _was _familiar that she finally looked up.

"...Eighty-eight?"

She recognized that... Because that was her name.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **_Look, a gift! A new chapter for the holiday season. So Happy... Holidays?_

_**Eckham **__made an excellent observation. In Chapter 5 Roy kind of let Wilson, whom is five ranks lower than him, walk all over him. Why did he let him do that without severe consequences?_

_I'm going to say that it was awkward writing in my part! I don't think I fully conveyed what was going on in Roy's mind. He should have definitely been more angry than I made him out to be. At least in my mind at the time, I was focusing on when he heard about his men being interviewed and when Wilson said the order was given to exterminate the chimera. At that point in my head, Roy's thoughts were reeling, and he became more focused on getting to Riza before General Thomas did. So he kind of "let it slide."_

_...But don't worry, he will make up for it._

_So this chapter was the story's turning point. Two more chapters in this "arc" before moving to the final, considerably longer one. Hopefully I will update before the New Year. _

_Next chapter we will discover what exactly General Thomas is up to and why._

_Fun fact*: A wolf's jaw is powerful enough to snap a moose's femur after a few bites..._

_So, thank you for the reviews, follows, and favorites! You guys are great._


	12. Taken

_"Tell me... What is your name?"_

_General Thomas watched as the chimera looked down at the photograph in her hands._

_A smile crept onto his face. "Do you know him?" He paused for a moment. "General __**Roy **__Mustang?"_

_No reaction. Not even a twitch or hesitation._

_He let the name sit and simmer for a moment just in case. But still nothing..._

_"The Hero of Ishval," he sneered as a surge of anger began to rise within him. "The future 'Fuhrer' of Amestris?"_

_Nothing._

_"How about... The Hawk's Eye?"_

_He watched as she ran her thumb over the photograph, completely oblivious to what he was saying._

_"Riza," he said with another drawn out pause. "Riza Hawkeye?"_

_The lack of a reaction brought back his sinister smile. "Then how about... Eighty-Eight?"_

_With that she looked up, yellow eyes flitting about in an attempt to read his face. _

_His smile broadening, Thomas lowered his voice, "Yes, that's right; Eighty-Eight is your name."_

_Upon hearing the set of words again, her brows raised and ears twitched in recognition._

_Reaching forward, he yanked the picture from her grasp and stood._

_Feeling her eyes on him, he grinned as he began ripping the paper to bits and pieces. When he deemed them small enough, he collected them in one hand and crushed them. "And _he_ is no longer your commanding officer."_

* * *

><p>"Sir, may I asked where we are going," Lieutenant Colonel Wilson asked as he obediently followed General Thomas through the winding tunnels beneath Central Command. When the General invited him to a "private" meeting, he did not expect it to be there. He had thought that the tunnels had been sealed after what many referred to as "the Promised Day."<p>

The General did not respond, instead quickening his pace. Despite having a cane, the General was still surprisingly spry.

"Sir," Wilson began again as he attempted to catch up with his superior officer, "Again, if you don't mind me asking, where are we-"

"It's best that I show you," the General snapped, cutting his subordinate off.

Surprised by the General's harsh tone, Wilson opted to remain silent. After a few minutes, however, he heard a peculiar noise. Straining to listen as they neared it, he realized that the "noise" was actually a mixture of noises.

Pulling two pairs of headphones from his pocket, the General handed some to his subordinate, then stopped to place them in his ears.

"Sir, why-"

Thomas raised his hand, silencing the Colonel.

Frustrated by the lack of information, Wilson reluctantly placed them in his ears as he watched the General pull open a steel door at the end of the corridor and motioned for him to follow.

As soon as he entered the hallway, he was hit with a barrage of strange odors and noises, despite having the ear protection in place. Turning to the sources of the noises, he was horrified by what he saw.

Lining the hallway to the left of him were a series of prison-like cells. Within each one was a "beast" of sorts; some humanoid in shape, while others were less so. Every single one of them took notice of the two men and immediately stopped their pacing or howling and launched themselves at the bars, clawing frantically at them.

Shocked and disturbed, Wilson rushed forward, nearly running into the General, whom had already gotten to the next door and opened it. Pushing his way through it, he slammed it behind him and the General. Turning to the General, his mouth agape, he exclaimed, "Sir, you... You caught the-"

"I wouldn't say 'caught,' Lieutenant Colonel," Thomas responded as he pulled the earplugs from his ears and turned to his subordinate, a cryptic smile on his face. "It's more like I 'have' them."

"General, I don't-"

"Follow me and I will explain," Thomas murmured as he began to continue down the second corridor they had entered.

"Tell me, Lieutenant Colonel; how are Amestris's relationships with our surrounding countries?"

"N-not good, sir," Wilson replied confusedly.

"And do you think our current Fuhrer's last tour will do anything about our relations?"

Wilson paused for a moment. Fuhrer Grumman had a way with words, but tensions had grown between their nation and Drachma and Aerugo in the past two years. Despite his silver tongue, there was still a lot of work that needed to be done...

"No, sir," Wilson responded truthfully.

"Exactly," Thomas agreed as he trudged on. "And, unfortunately, our next leader is too much like our current one: soft. He may have seen the Ishvalan war and had been deemed a 'hero,' but he has not the experience nor what it takes to rule.

"War is imminent, Colonel, and with either one at the helm, Amestris _will _fall. So, I have taken it upon myself to ensure that this nation thrives... One way or another." Stopping at another steel door, the General turned to his subordinate. "Will you continue to follow me, Lieutenant Colonel?"

The younger man paused for a moment. Why would he ask such a thing? Of course he would follow him. After knowing him for so many years, he discovered that everything the General did was for the good of this nation, even if it may seem radical or extreme to others.

He himself joined the military to protect this nation and its citizens from any threat that presented itself, domestic or international. If the General saw something in the current government's structure that would cause the fall of Amestris, then it must be true.

"Yes, sir," the Lieutenant Colonel answered.

The General's face softened as he smiled genuinely at his subordinate. "Thank you, Lieutenant Colonel. I always knew that I could trust you. And that is why I am filling you in on my solution for this nation."

"Solution, sir?" Wilson wondered aloud.

With a grunt and shove, the General pushed the steel door open with great effort. Once it was ajar, he motioned for the Colonel to follow. After limping along for a while, the General finally spoke. "Do you remember after the Promised Day when our office was flooded with extremely sensitive files from the years that Bradley ruled?"

"Yes, sir..." Wilson replied in agreement.

"And among those files were reports on alchemic soldiers?"

"...Yes. Chimeras, sir?"

"Correct; _they _are the solution."

Wilson stared at his commander as he followed behind him, genuinely lost. "But, sir, you and the Council ordered for them to be-"

"Exterminated, yes. But are the ones trapped down here dead, Lieutenant Colonel?"

"...No, sir."

"Exactly," the General began. "The ones on the surface are rogues, destined to die.

"You see, Lieutenant Colonel, under the former Bradley rule, many human-based chimera were created and deemed 'perfect soldiers.' However, they were far from perfect, because do you know what they possessed?"

Wilson did not respond, finding himself at a loss.

"Their humanity," Thomas answered for him in annoyance. "Their thoughts, their emotions, their wills... _Everything _that still made them human... To an extent.

"Many of them defected from the military after the war, switching sides or disappearing altogether. A waste of military funding and are thus targeted for elimination," he spat.

"But," Thomas continued, "What if you could take that away? Their emotional connection to their own species? Their resistance to slaughtering their own kind? If you take that away, you have a new breed of soldier. And that," he finally stopped and motioned to the cell in front of him, "is my ultimate goal."

Turning to see what he had gestured to, Wilson's eyes widened in shock. Sitting in the back in a small bench, knees pulled to her chest and blonde hair spilling over her shoulders, was a familiar form. "Is-is that-"

"Yes," Thomas answered as he stepped forward and clapped a hand on his subordinate's shoulder.

Doing his best to hide his horror, The Lieutenant Colonel muttered, "And she _agreed_ to the program. Just like that?" Captain Hawkeye was 110% devoted to General Mustang. She would never-

"Partially," Thomas admitted as he squeezed the Colonel's shoulder. "She volunteered to go first when her comrades were threatened. Noble, yet foolish.

"Although, she isn't Captain Hawkeye anymore..."

"I-I don't-"

"Captain," the General called out in a sickeningly sweet tone, causing Wilson to flinch. Out of blatant curiosity, however, he turned to watch the Captain.

She was looking away from them, so they only saw a profile of her face. However, he saw her eye flick over to them and quickly return to staring back at the wall. Though the gesture was more acknowledgement than recognition.

"Riza Hawkeye," the General called next.

She didn't even flinch, failing to show any sign of recognition.

"... Eighty-eight," the General resounded next, a hint of a smile in his voice.

Wilson stared in shock when she turned her head fully to glare at the pair, saffron-colored eyes narrowed in dislike. That's when he noticed...

"Her...ears?"

The General chuckled lightly. "The process didn't work _completely_. Our goal was to create a blend that removed any signs of a transmutation. However, we at least got rid of what we were aiming to."

Still staring in shock and disbelief, Wilson murmured, "How would... How would anyone say this was okay? The Fuhrer-"

"Will be dead in a matter of time," the General cut him off nonchalantly.

Turning wide-eyed to his leader, Wilson gaped at him. "Dead, sir? Why-"

"Like I told you, Lieutenant Colonel, he is not fit to rule. Now is the opportune time to eliminate the string of command in this country; between the passing of the torch."

"But Mustang-"

"General Mustang will never see his position of power, Colonel Wilson. You need to remember that the power is not immediately handed over to the predecessor, according to our newly drafted government documents. Rather, it is handed to the Council _until _the new leader is ready to take it on. A fault in our policies? Perhaps. But it works in our benefit this time."

"'Our,' sir?" Wilson asked as he tried to push down his feelings of disgust and shame. _This _was not the man he had sworn his life to.

"The Council, of course," Thomas said with a smile. "It makes conquest much easier when you have nearly 75% of them on your side..."

It was all beginning to sink in...

The General was planning to eliminate the Fuhrer... He _wanted _war.

And he was going to get it... And use soldiers designed to win...

"Will you still follow me," the General asked again. This time, however, his voice was laced with skepticism.

Slowly turning his attention from the Captain to his commander, Wilson raised his head and muttered, "Yes, sir."

* * *

><p>"How are you feeling?"<p>

Turning his head to look at his commanding officer, Fuery murmured, "Alright, sir... Still tired though..."

Casting his subordinate a weary smile, Roy said, "I don't doubt it, Sargent. You've only woken up a few days ago..."

"Yeah," the young man muttered as he clenched his bedsheets in his fists and stared ahead of him.

Seeing his Sargent's change in demeanor, Roy asked, "Is everything alright?"

"I guess," Kain murmured as he looked away from his superior officer. "It's just that... I miss everyone, you know?"

Roy paused for a moment, knowing exactly where this was going. "You did see Lieutenant Havoc just yesterday, remember? And Lieutenant Breda will be by later today..." He knew that the young man wanted to know Riza's condition, but he didn't know what to say...

What _was _there to say? That she was taken and gone for a month? That their efforts in finding her had proved fruitless? That they didn't actually _know _what her condition was...?

Every day Roy woke up was a nightmare upon realizing that she wasn't there.

Every. Single. Day...

Nodding, Fuery wearily said, "I know, sir. I just wish I could see everyone in one place. Why-"

Suddenly someone burst into the hospital room in a fit of panic. Turning toward the door, Roy identified the man as none other than Lieutenant Colonel Wilson.

"I'll be right back," he growled as he stood, his eyes never leaving the officer's.

Stepping into the hallway and closing the door loudly behind him, Roy sneered, "What is the meaning of this, _Lieutenant Colonel,_" hoping to make his displeasure and dislike obvious to the man.

Seemingly oblivious to the General's distaste for him, the panting and wide-eyed Colonel gasped, "Sir, I-I can lead you to your Captain."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **_I apologize for the shorter chapter, but I wanted to end it here (otherwise the next chapter would be too long, I feel...). _

_So now we have a better idea of what Thomas is planning... Though there are still a few things that need to be revealed. Like: Why did Thomas target them?_

_So... Actually 1.5 chapters left in this arc._

_Expect more explanations next chapter, definitely some action, and a very, very angry Roy Mustang! Aaaaaaand probably a cliffhanger O.O Though I will probably post the next chapter within the next few days (before _Pressure Point_) because I already have it mapped out. It will likely be called 'Lost.'_

_Again, thanks to all that have favorited, followed, and reviewed so far!_


	13. I'm Sorry

**A/N: **_Text that is __**bolded**__ is a memory of Roy's conversation with Riza. I decided to add it in bits and pieces, giving enough information in order to convey what they had talked about (and bolded it because the page breaks would be too much)_

_Also, many apologies ahead of time for the angst. This will probably be the worst chapter for it…_

_**Important-ish A/N at the end…**_

* * *

><p>There was not a force in Amestris strong enough to oppose Roy Mustang...<p>

With another snap of his fingers, another explosion erupted in front of him, scattering the vermin that _dared _to challenge him.

After that display of power, the remaining lesser beasts scattered and vanished into the cracks in the walls. He doubted they would show themselves again after that...

Feeling a hand in his shoulder, he turned his darkened gaze toward Edward Elric, whose equally hardened eyes glared back.

"Colonel Wilson says we need to-"

"_You _need to find Beller," Roy hissed as he turned to focus his glare on the Lieutenant Colonel, whose hands were bound behind his back. "_He _will come with me."

Edward's eyes narrowed in anger. "No way in hell are we-"

"The longer we stand around here, the more likely it is he gets away," Roy snapped. Focusing on Armstrong and Havoc, he barked, "Go with Edward and secure the suspect. _Do not _let him escape this time."

Ignoring Edward's protests, Roy unlocked the handcuffs that had bound Wilson's hands. Pushing him forward, he growled, "Take me to her."

Raising his hands defensively, the Lieutenant Colonel obediently turned and began to lead Roy toward one of the many steel doors that lined the wall.

Before they reached it, he heard Edward approaching him from behind. "Mustang..."

"Go," he snapped as he whirled around the face the former alchemist. "I can handle this..."

For a moment the blond lingered, debating if he would disobey or not. Finally he gave in and turned away, tucking the gun Roy had issued him into his pocket. "I'll see you soon then."

Without responding, Roy shoved the Lieutenant Colonel through the door and into the dimly lit hallway.

For the moment they were alone.

"If this is a trick," Roy snarled as he raised his hand, his fingers poised to snap, "I can guarantee you will be the first to know my disappointment."

Without turning back to the General, the lower-tiered military man quickened his pace. After a moment of silence, he murmured, "I would not joke about this, General... I can assure you that I was unaware of all of this. Had I known sooner, you would have been notified then."

"Then why the change of heart," Roy asked warily, his eyes fixed on the man's back.

"Because... This man, the General, is not the same man I was designated to follow years ago. What he is doing," he said as he clenched fists at his sides, "Is not right..." Stopping at another door, the man briskly forced it open and beckoned the Flame Alchemist to follow.

The instant the door opened, Roy's ears were filled with cacophony and mayhem. Within the cells they passed were dozens of misshapen, godless creatures that were screaming, crying, agonizing…

But the moment he passed them by they quieted and pressed themselves against the walls of their container; hundreds of soulless, widened eyes silently following his every move.

The moment the Lieutenant Colonel led him to another corridor and shut the door firmly behind him, he could hear the creatures began to scream and moan once again.

"How much-," Suddenly Roy felt a heavy force slam against his body, forcing him to the floor. In that instant his gloves were torn from his hands and his arms were pressed firmly against his back. A cry of surprise and agony just next to him confirmed that the Lieutenant Colonel was caught up in whatever he was.

Twisting his head around, Roy could make out two large forms looming over them. Before he could shout in protest one of the forms groped at his hip, ripping his gun and holster away from his body. In one swift movement it then lifted him and held him tightly, pinning his arms to his chest.

Finally finding his voice, Roy spat, "Who the hell are you?"

His restrainer did not respond and instead decided to move onward, his conspirator and the captured Wilson following behind them.

"Answer me," Roy snarled as he struggled against the monster's firm grip.

The beast of a man remained silent, moving ahead at a quickened pace. Moments after turning a corner, the man that constrained him stopped and pivoted, bringing into Roy's field of vision two figures inside the cell in front of him. One standing and dressed in military garb, leaning against a wooden cane.

And the other… A familiar blonde form sitting cross-legged on the floor a few feet from the first, her head in her hands.

For a moment, a look of surprise flashed across the aged General's face when he saw Roy Mustang accompanying his "trusted" subordinate. Once he had suppressed it, he smirked at the captured pair. "It seems I could not trust you after all, Lieutenant Colonel. Such a shame... I was hoping to have another _pawn _to manipulate."

Then, without warning the chimera that was restraining the Lieutenant Colonel reached up with one hand and grabbed his head. With one fluid motion, it twisted forcefully, successfully severing the military man's spinal cord with a loud _snap_.

Roy watched in shock as the once struggling man became limp in the beast's arms.

With nonchalance the General nodded toward the chimera responsible. "Please remove that at once."

After nodding in compliance, the Lieutenant Colonel's murderer turned on his heels and threw the man's lifeless form over his shoulder and lumbered back down the hallway from which they came.

Pushing through the horror and disgust that had set in his stomach, Roy struggled fruitlessly against his captor's grip as he focused his attention on the one he had come for.

She was watching him, her expression mixed with confusion and curiosity. However, just as soon as he had caught her eyes, she turned her head and focused on General Thomas, not so much as giving him a second glance.

"Riza," Roy cried out as he continued to struggle against the tightened grip around him.

She didn't even flinch, her gaze never faltering from Thomas.

His sadistic grin widening, Thomas shook his head and said, "Try again, Mustang."

"What did you do to her," Roy demanded through bared teeth as he narrowed his eyes.

Raising his brows in almost indifference, the General responded coolly, "I have done nothing, Mustang. I've merely worked with what the kind doctor provided me with. Had you actually _understood_ what the transmutation circle coded for, you might actually know." Turning his attention to the chimera that restrained Roy, he nodded.

Obeying his silent order, the beast loosened his grip on Roy, dropping him the floor.

In an instant Roy was on his feet, only to find the barrel of a gun pointed at his chest. "Don't move," the aged General hissed as he cocked his weapon.

"Leave us," Thomas commanded Roy's captor, focusing on him for a moment.

From behind him, Roy heard the rustle of fabric and the sound of heavy footfalls wandering away, disappearing down the corridor.

Turning his mad gaze back to Roy, the General chuckled darkly. "Now, don't try to be the hero. Because," he said as he trained the gun from Roy to point at Riza, "I will not hesitate to put a bullet in her head if so much as attempt to perform clap alchemy."

Roy slowly raised his hands in surrender. His eyes slowly wandering back down to her, he tried to appeal to her again. "Riza, please answer me…"

Again the General laughed wickedly. "You can call her name as often as you like, _General_, but she won't answer. To her you are nothing; merely another stranger that will come and go."

"What the hell does that mean?! What did you do," Roy spat venomously.

"Nothing. Just as I said before, Mustang," Thomas replied as the cocked his head to the side. "And here I thought having the former Fullmetal Alchemist on your side would have given you an advantage. Perhaps he needs to brush up on his alchemy, General," the man taunted.

"He did decode it," Roy corrected the man harshly. "And with the help of your subordinate, we've put the pieces together.

"You want war, but in order to win said war you need soldiers. Soldiers that would not hesitate to kill… So you take everything from them so that there is no reason not to." Balling his hands into fists, Roy's arms dropped to his side as he began to quake, his anger boiling just below the surface. "You're no better than the man that led this country before."

"I am doing what is best for this country, _Mustang_," Thomas sneered. "And if that means sacrificing a few lives for its sake, then I will not hesitate to."

Roy was trembling now, his vision becoming clouded by his rage. "Then why my men," he snarled as he clenched his fists tighter, digging his nails into his palms. "Why them?!"

The corners of the older General's mouth twitched. "Because a king without his loyalist subjects is nothing."

"And yet you sacrifice yours?!"

"As I said, sacrifices must be made. And if sacrificing their lives to prove a point is necessary, then so shall it be," Thomas spat.

"A point," Roy echoed in disbelief as he relaxed his fists.

"Yes; a point, General, "Thomas responded with a hint of self-satisfaction. "A point to prove that neither you nor your men are untouchable. That even they can fall when a stronger force is introduced."

"So you targeted my men first to prove a point," Roy tried to clarify as he slipped into a daze. "You did this to… Prove a point…" He took one step toward Thomas, then another.

Seeing the General's uncharacteristic approach, Thomas turned the barrel of his gun to Roy in silent alarm. "I said not to move!"

Roy ignored him and continued to advance forward, his head swimming with Thomas's words. _He did this to them to prove a point… He did this to _her _to prove a point…_

Losing his sense and logic and giving into his fury, Roy darted forward and rammed into Thomas, slamming him into the wall. Before the man could even react, Roy drew his fist back and drove it into his face.

Pulling it back once more, he did it again.

And again.

And again.

Ignoring the blood that spattered onto his face, Roy continued his barrage, driven by the taunting cackles that spewed from the other General's mouth.

_He did this. _

Roy landed another punch, feeling the General's face give beneath the blow.

_He took her._

Another blow; this time dislocating the man's jaw.

_All to prove that-_

Before he could connect his bloodied, battered fist with the General's face again, something caught his wrist. Dazed, he turned to find that Riza had gotten up and wrapped her hands around his wrist. Through her overgrown fringe, he could see her widened, frightened eyes peering up at him.

Feeling his grip on Thomas's jacket loosen, he numbly released him, hearing the beaten man slide down the wall and hit the floor with a dull _thump_.

"Riza..." He slowly moved toward her, reaching his other hand out to her.

Suddenly she released her grip on his arm and raised her hands to either side of her head. With a cry of pain she stumbled backwards, crumbling to the ground.

"Riza!" Roy rushed forward and fell to his knees. "Are you-"

Her eyes flying open, she released one of her hands and lashed out at him, her nails tearing through the flesh on his face.

Roy instinctively drew back and grabbed his cheek in his hands, feeling the jagged, rough edges of the deep and fresh wound.

Pulling away, Riza withdrew backwards, increasing the distance between her and Roy. Backing into the wall, she curled her arms and legs up to her chest, watching him with panic-filled eyes.

Ignoring the throbbing in his cheek, Roy scrambled forward and reached for her again. She responded by swinging at him again.

Dodging her assault, he cried out her name again, trying to catch her eye. But she showed no signs of recognition, pushing herself as close to the wall as possible.

Finally, his eyes caught hers. They screamed of confusion and terror.

_**"I need you to listen to me..."**_

Roy shook his head and moved away from her. He couldn't think about this now...

_**"Riza... You can't expect me to do that..."**_

_**"You entrusted me with the same. If I were to stray from who I was..."**_

"Please... Say _something_," Roy begged. "You know- you know me," he said as his voice cracked.

_**"How do you know I would even follow through?"**_

_**"...Because you love me enough to..."**_

The further he backed away, the more relaxed she became. Slowly rising to his feet, he addressed her again. She watched him, but her eyes... She wasn't looking at him out of recognition; she was watching him in order to try and understand. He saw her eyes dart over to the bloodied and battered General lying motionlessly a few feet from them before resting on him again.

_**"An existence like that is not worth living. You know that, Roy..."**_

_**"I know..."**_

He reached into the pocket that lined the inner part of his jacket, the object she had given him becoming increasingly heavier.

_**"Riza, you know I would never let something like that happen. I will **_**always **_**be here with you..."**_

_**"I know..."**_

He had failed. Let his guard down and allowed them to take her.

He should have fought harder. He should have been stronger.

He had failed her.

"Riza..." He held his breath, praying that there would be some sign of recognition... But there was none.

She didn't lift her head, instead lowering it further.

She wasn't here anymore.

Everything that was "her" died the day they took her.

She was gone...

_**"I will **_**always**_** be here with you... Because I love you, Riza..."**_

His vision began to blur.

_It hurt._

_**"I will **_**always** _**be here..."**_

_It hurt._

_**"I know..."**_

_It hurt!_

* * *

><p><em>The instant their eyes had met, something within her surged, fighting desperately to surface. But the moment it got too far, a head-splitting pain tore through her skull.<em>

_Crying out she stumbled backwards, trying feverishly to stop the seemingly endless agony. Her hands immediately went to her head, trying to ease it._

_But whatever _it _was, it was relentless. _

_His pained, sorrowful eyes had done this; caused whatever it was to fight._

_Cracking one eye open, she realized that he was in front of her._

_He did this…_

_Releasing one of her hands, she swung viciously at him, her nails tearing into the flesh on his face. As he yelped in pain and sprang back, she saw a splash of blood decorate his cheek._

_She needed to get away now!_

_Pushing herself back as quickly as she could, she found that she had run herself into a corner._

_Turning back toward the intruder, she saw that he was suddenly there, practically on top of her._

_She responded by lashing out at him again, forcing him backwards._

_The further back he retreated, the less of him she could see through her increasingly blurring vision. And the more the pain began to recede…_

_He began speaking, causing her to fill with frustration. Didn't he realize she could not understand him? What did he want?_

_It couldn't be anything good… She pushed herself as closely to the wall as she could._

_Then he stopped and reached his trembling hand into his pocket, seconds later producing a shining black object. _

_She stared as he looked down at it, as if considering it. He remained like that for what seemed like hours._

_Then he decided. _

_Slowly he lifted it, pointing one end of it directly at her._

_She instantly recognized it as something bad._

_It was dangerous. _He _was dangerous._

_Every fiber of her being begged her to run. Her muscles tensed in anticipation of flight. But…_

_The surge of adrenaline never came._

_Instead, the thing that had fought so desperately to surface lightly nudged at her again, begging her to reconsider her notion of him._

_He wasn't dangerous, it told her._

_He was there to help, it said. _

_He was there to make the pain stop._

_She slowly scanned her eyes up to his face, his visage mirroring what she felt inside: Fear. Pain. Hurting._

_He was there to make it stop._

_Her eyes lowered themselves to the black object._

That _would make it stop, it told her._

_Giving in to its explanation, she bowed her head in acceptance._

_He would make it stop…_

* * *

><p>For a brief moment his trembling hand steadied, his finger finding the trigger of the gun.<p>

_**"Because I love you..."**_

"... I'm sorry..."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **_I thought I had this plotted out, but then ended up changing it slightly. I hope I did the conversation between Thomas and Roy justice… I kept going back and rereading it and thinking "Yeah, that works," but sometimes I fear that I think all of that because I know how the story goes in my head, so I know the character's motives. So if you feel that I left out any details or something didn't make sense, please let me know…_

_**I know that this chapter left a lot of questions**__ (ie. Roy's behavior and that "thing/force" that caused Riza so much pain), but don't worry; they will be explained in time…_

_Next chapter: Edward being a badass and the start of the last, though longer, part of the story._

_I apologize for not responding to reviews this time around. I lost access to the internet for a while. But thank you _**waddiwasiwitch****, ****Hublehuh****, and ****Ice Maiden Olivier **_for the reviews. And thank you to all that followed, favorited, and reviewed thus far!_

_And Happy New Year!_


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